Rise of the Hawks: Reunion
by RECKLESS SOLDIER-MS
Summary: With Amaranthine behind him but the Blight still fresh on his mind Daylen Amell resumes his journey. He and his new companions come to Kirkwall where Daylen meets his cousins the Hawkes. Deciding to help them with their expedition, the reunited family discovers a conspiracy against the city rulers, will they save them or let the city burn for ruining their family?
1. Prologue: Fall of the Amells

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age

This story could be considered a rewrite of a story I recently took down, Right and Duty. That story, like this was an insert of the character from origins into Kirkwall during the events of Dragon Age 2, but at the same time I'm going to change some things in order to make a more original story.

The Origins character as you can probably see from the character tags is Daylen Amell, the mage origin. The Mage and Dalish Elf origins were my favourite origins, not just because of game play but because of the story setting and how they linked on a more personal level with characters in Dragon Age 2. Whilst there was more detail with Mahariel, Amell is actually related to Hawke.

This story follows the premise of what your character can say at the end of the first game, Daylen has been journeying across Thedas, he has some new/old companions and he's basically a wiser man now. His travels take him to Kirkwall, where the Amells are a shadow of what they were, Hawke is struggling with funding a deep roads expedition and other issues that will be revealed as the story goes on. Daylen meets Hawke and the only remaining family he has left and decides to help them. This covers Hawke's first few years in Thedas and I intend to make sequel stories covering the Qunari occupation and the breakdown of the circle.

What you can expect from this fic is both Bethany and Carver in Kirkwall (how will be explained) and the relationship Daylen forges with them and Hawke who is a female rogue. Other characters from both games will appear including a character we have yet to see, though heavily altered. There will be quests and storylines from the game but some with twists and the endings for some of the acts and Kirkwall's fate will change not just because of Daylen's presence.

I hope you all enjoy the first chapter, which covers Kirkwall and the Amell family.

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Rise of the Hawks: Reunion

Prologue: Fall of the Amells

The miraculous land of Thedas has many great nations and cities and it is the stories of the individuals from these nations that have gone down in history. Ferelden has many heroes, but its greatest came not from there, but across the waking sea in the land of the Free Marches, in the great city of Kirkwall. Formerly called Emerius, the city of chains was once a fief of the Tevinter Imperium, but before the dragon age began the slaves rose up in rebellion and freed themselves of Tevinter rule. Viscount became the ruling title and there were many men and women who performed this duty to various degrees of success. Elected primarily from noble families, Kirkwall never had the risk of running out of leaders. The noble families of Kirkwall produced many leaders, all of whom would have made fine rulers in their own right. The head of the Harimann family was adept at architecture and finance, the DeLancet's produced sensible negotiators and traders. But there was one family in all of Kirkwall that the people were willing to follow, even going so far as to suggest that they were the logical successors of Viscount Perrin Threnhold.

The Amells were the wealthiest and most popular family in all of Kirkwall. They were led by the brothers Aristide and Fausten Amell and the bonds of the family were strong. Aristide was the finest negotiator and financer in all of Kirkwall, whilst Fausten was a skilled warrior and tactician. For years they supported the people of Kirkwall and ensured that the unpopular actions of Perrin Threnhold would never hurt them. Viscount Threnhold, though an admirable man and ruler in his own right was cutting Kirkwall off from the involvement of other nations. That unfortunately included Orlais, the most powerful nation in Thedas having once had a fief in Ferelden and being the capital of the Chant of light. Orlais always commanded the Chantry and Perrin saw that eventually the Chantry would have more power than him. So he cut off trade with Orlais and Antiva, erecting a gigantic net from the twin statues, which also made an Orlesian attack impossible. But ultimately Threnhold's downfall came from within the city of chains. In an attempt to gain control of the city, Threnhold gathered his troops and attacked the Templars, the military arm of the Chantry. His list of allies was short but after a bloody campaign he executed the Knight-Commander and declared the Chantry exiled from Kirkwall.

Around the time the Viscount came into conflict with the Chantry, the Amell family enjoyed the peace of their own reign in Hightown. Aristide had an estate close to the Viscounts keep, whilst Fausten lived in a mansion close to the Chantry. The Amell's were blessed five years before the Viscounts rebellion against the Chantry, when Fausten's daughter Revka gave birth. The boy was named Daylen and raised as a potential heir to Fausten's estate, for the family knew his son's incompetence and gambling habits made him an unworthy successor. Growing up with the hatred of his uncle but the love of his mother and second cousin Leandra, young Daylen made very few friends because of his connection to the Amell family and the strange silver hair he possessed. Despite this however Fausten valued Daylen more than any of his grandchildren and always kept him close by.

Daylen thought of training as playing, for Fausten wanted to make a warrior out of Daylen. He smiled as the boy slammed his wooden pole against the sticks he wielded. Revka and Leandra sat watching, the boy's mother grimaced every time her father knocked her child to the dirt. But even with his face stained by the mud and a bruise fresh on his arm, the boy smiled and stood back up, laughing the bruise off and continuing to hack at his grandfather. Fausten swung his twin sticks and cheered as the boy finally blocked the strike and counter attacked, striking his leg. Life was good for them and the day was fine, for whatever the future held Fausten was proud to have a grandchild destined for greatness.

"Well done boy, but remember, the true measure of a warrior is not in fighting, but knowing when it is necessary to fight," Fausten patted his grand child's shoulder and pushed him to his mother.

Aristide emerged from the rose bed, clapping his hands in mocking admiration of his brother's wisdom. As Revka fussed over the boy, the two men walked far from their children and spoke of the family and their future.

"An arranged marriage? Brother is that really necessary?" Fausten asked.

"DeLauncet's son is a fine young man and well within Leandra's age, our financial stability is not the best since you bailed your son out of his debts, of course that wouldn't have happened if you had attained a firmer control of your children," Aristide explained.

"Family is what matters most Aristide, but also free will and the right for every child of the maker to control their own destiny even if it leads them to ruin the fact that it is the path they chose is what is important!"

Aristide shook his head in disapproval of his brother's philosophy. Fausten was a good fighter but he did not live in a rational world, he lived in an idealistic world. But the world was not all ideals, the Chantry had control, the Maker's word was their word and for the sake of survival they had to conform to the laws the Chantry set. Though Aristide maintained a small hope that if he truly did become Viscount he could at least discourage the Chantry from involvement in matters that were best for the people, such as his and Fausten's idea to empower the commoners with a bill of rights and privileges. The Chantry and the Templars would pay no heed to what they did for their people.

"You antagonise too many people brother, especially the clerics, why not commit Daylen to the Chantry?" Aristide asked.

"Leandra was a baby when she was committed, she kicked and screamed bless her, for she did not know the Chantry, I would prefer my children to follow the faith wilfully, knowing its good points and accepting the bad…if Daylen later chooses not to pray then I will be thankful that he becomes a man of action not faith," Fausten explained.

"You give them too much freedom Fausten!"

"And you are perhaps not as firm as you believe, Gamlen and Leandra are their own, their destiny's are theirs to control and though you may demand of them to marry into noble family's, ultimately they will choose their own paths and you as their father have a duty to love them for it either way."

"Do not remind me of my duty as a father, you may have had children earlier than I but still keep in mind that I am the elder here," Aristide laughed.

"By mere minutes brother!"

"Still sore that I won the race?"

The two brothers laughed and their applause of life was only deepened when their bright grand child jumped from the tree, knocking them both to the ground.

"DAYLEN!" Revka yelled, rushing over to the boys. "Don't run out of my sight again, and don't go climbing trees either," she again wiped the fresh dirt from his face.

"Calm yourself daughter, he's just honing his skills isn't he?" Aristide asked, winking at the boy.

Daylen nodded and laughed as Aristide lifted the boy onto his shoulders. Leandra smiled at the display, for though her father was strict she also remembered him being a great source of fun and laughs when she was Daylen's age. Even as Daylen yanked at his hair and kicked the sides of his head Aristide played his part well, running through the garden, ducking under tree branches and jumping over logs. Fausten leant on his sword and smiled as he listened to his grandson laugh, life was indeed good.

Threnhold's campaign to purge the Chantry of Kirkwall did not end with the death of the Knight-Commander. He wanted the complete eradication of the Chantry from his city. Some wondered if he saw the Orlesian influence in the Chantry and simply wanted his city free of foreign rule or if he hated the religion so much that he wanted it wiped from Thedas. Either way people knew what he did next, but very few knew of the specific effects of that night.

_"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter, blessed are the peacekeepers champions of the just!"_

Grand Cleric Elthina had the respect of many and as she led the evening prayer, her followers bowed their heads and accepted her blessings and prayers. The values of the others in the Chantry were not all aligned however. It was Daylen's first time in the Chantry, but he was not praying. Leandra walked into the study and saw her second cousin sitting on a stool as her uncle read from various history books. She leant against the frame of the door and watched Daylen's curious expression as Fausten moved onto the story of Andraste.

"They say that Andraste's death due to the betrayal of her mortal husband showed the maker that man was not yet ready to be saved…I however believe we are capable of saving ourselves, for that is the true measure of the story, Andraste fought and rallied others, there were no miracles behind her, only the miracles made through human action and will," Fausten explained.

"But grandfather, if Andraste preached of freedom then why are mages locked away, have they done something wrong?" Daylen asked.

"That…is a very difficult subject to explain," Fausten sighed.

"Why? Everyone talks about the evils of slavery, but locking people up when they are young without charge of a crime is wrong isn't it?"

Fausten looked down at the boy, unable to answer his question.

"Would you like to receive Mother Elthina's blessing?" he asked his grandson.

"Only if she can give me a good reason as to why mages are locked up," Daylen stubbornly said.

Fausten laughed before lifting the boy onto his shoulder. He walked out of the library, smiling at Leandra. Lately Leandra had been happy as well, so much more than she had been months ago when Aristide had declared her betrothal to the De Lancet's son. Either she had warmed up to the idea or she had found someone else to turn her affection on, Fausten was not blind and he too had experienced love. Having the freedom to choose whom he loved and married gave him Revka and his son, and later on the bright young boy who rested on his shoulder. Daylen was Fausten's pride and joy, as Leandra was Aristide's.

"Cousin, why are mages locked away?" Daylen asked.

"I guarantee you'll never get a straight or absolutely correct answer from anyone Daylen, alls we have are half truths now," Leandra said.

"My, my Leandra, who have you been dallying with to come out with such wisdom?" Fausten asked.

"No one you should worry father with," Leandra said.

"Ah to be young again!"

The three Amells walked down the stairs to join Elthina's continuing communion. The doors of the Chantry were suddenly swung open and armed men began marching into the grand hall. At the front was a man clad in black armour, carrying a silver helmet between his hand and hip. Fausten recognised the armour itself as that of the legendary fallen knights whom fought against the growing power of Orlais during the exalted age. It was perhaps fitting that it was Perrin Threnhold wearing the armour, although he lacked the crown of the Viscount the dark haired man held clear authority as he led his troops to disrupt Elthina's communion.

"This Chantry is hereby disbanded, you will move this place of worship to somewhere outside of my city," Perrin declared.

"On whose authority?" one of the mothers asked.

Fausten placed Daylen on the ground and pulled his face to his chest. Though Daylen heard the sound of a sword being drawn, he didn't see the Viscount slash the woman's throat. The people gasped as the woman fell, her blood spreading across the floor. Fausten pushed Daylen into Leandra's arms and walked to the communion area, stepping between Perrin and Elthina.

"What is the meaning of this Threnhold?" Fausten demanded.

"The Orlesian influence on the Chantry is too great, as is the Chantry's influence on this city, these holy people and their superstitious and hypocritical ways will lead the rest of Thedas to civil ruin, they will not however push Kirkwall down that path," Perrin explained.

"The nobility will never support this, Orlais will counter attack, the net on the twins will not hold them forever," Fausten stated.

"Then join me Amell," Perrin said softly, placing his hand on Fausten's shoulder. "Help me purge this city of these debaters and worshippers, help me restore order and logic to this city!"

"You speak of logic, but this, killing all those whom disagree with you, executing in cold blood the people whom are exercising their born right to faith…no Perrin, this is not the way to change the world," Fausten sighed.

Threnhold narrowed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly as he stepped away from Fausten.

"Don't do this Amell, I'd rather not be your enemy and keep in mind your bloodline was born from magic…how long will that magic remain dormant, how long until the Templars take your children's children away? Perhaps your faith in the Chantry will change once you see the true evil of the 'champions of the just'," Threnhold explained, looking at each of the noblemen and women within the Chantry.

"I sympathise with the mages, but this is the will of the Chantry and the maker," Elthina said.

Perrin closed his eyes and turned his back to the grand cleric. His anger soured into outright fury, giving shape to a sinister and sadistic smile.

"Very well Elthina, pray…all of you pray," he walked towards the candles, picking them up and throwing them at the tapestries.

He clicked his fingers and his soldiers began pouring oil across the walls. His sword glowed with fire; a dwarven enchantment had gifted the blade with magical powers to further increase Threnhold's might. The worshippers panicked as the soldiers swiped at them with their swords, forming a wall at the entrance of the Chantry with their shields. Revka looked over the shoulders of the worshippers, searching for her child. Leandra kept Daylen close, trying to keep him from witnessing the inevitable murder Perrin would commit.

"Pray as I prayed the day the wasting took my family, pray as I prayed when I witnessed family's torn apart because of the Chantry's hypocritical tyranny, pray Elthina…" he snarled, whipping his head towards the cleric, his eyes overcome by an insane rage. "Pray and be met with mocking silence BEFORE YOU DIE!"

The man yelled as he raised his sword over his head. Fausten leapt in front of Perrin, grabbing his arms and wrestling the sword from his grip. Elthina stood firm as the nobility watched the two men clash anxiously. Though Perrin was younger, Fausten held greater experience in battle as he jabbed at the Viscount's face again and again. Perrin attempted a wild haymaker, but Fausten blocked it and slammed his fist into the man's cheek. Grabbing one another, the two men slammed into the wall. Fausten caught Perrin's arm between his armpits and grabbed the back of his head, slamming him face first into a golden statue of Andraste, heated by the fire Perrin started. His face burned and he yelled in anger before Fausten pushed him to the ground, yanking away the buckles of his armour. The chest plate of the fallen fell to the floor and Perrin went to his knees.

"Your family's death was a tragedy Perrin, do not add all of Kirkwall to it as well, I beg of you," Fausten said.

Suddenly, a blade slid out of Perrin's wrist guard. He stabbed the blade into Fausten's gut, mercilessly twisting it. Fausten looked at the man he once respected and saw a glimmer of regret in the man's eyes.

"FATHER!" Revka screamed, abandoning her search for Daylen to rush through the crowd.

She knelt by her father's side, nestling his head in her lap. Perrin rubbed his eyes before turning to Elthina in fury.

"Many more will die, unless you leave this place and never come back," he snarled.

"The only one who will leave the city is you Threnhold!"

Perrin turned to the entrance of the Chantry. A contingent of templar knights had reformed their ranks and began fighting through Perrin's personal guard. The Knight-Lieutenant Meredith Stannard led them. She cleaved through the soldiers with her great sword; sweat flying off of her golden locks. Perrin narrowed his eyes and gripped his sword with both hands. He ran at the Templars, cutting down two knights on his way to Meredith. She raised her sword, blocking Perrin's strike. The pair slammed their swords together, continuing their duel as Meredith's knights cut down one soldier after another. Daylen struggled under Leandra's grip, looking through the robes and legs of the people in front of him. He gasped in horror, seeing his beloved grandfather bleeding in his mother's arms.

"Your blasphemy has come to an end," Meredith growled as she slashed Perrin's arm.

The Viscount shoved Meredith to the ground and pushed two clerics aside. He let out a yell as he ran towards the grand cleric. An arrow suddenly pierced through Perrin's leg, bringing him to the ground.

"In the name of the maker I execute you for your disloyalty," Meredith raised her sword, ready to behead the man.

"ENOUGH!" the Grand Cleric yelled.

The knights and soldiers stopped, seeing Meredith and Elthina standing over the defeated rebel leader. One by one, the soldiers still alive dropped their weapons. Perrin, seeing utter defeat hung his head low.

"A court will decide his fate, we are not without mercy," Elthina said.

"Damn your mercy Elthina, damn your Chant of light, one day it will burn," the former Viscout snarled before two guards lifted him to his feet.

The guards clamped cuffs of iron around Perrin's hands. Daylen broke free from Leandra's grip and rushed through the crowd.

"DAYLEN NO!" Leandra screamed.

Elthina looked to the child with a sad expression, even Meredith lowered her head in sympathy.

"Daylen stay back please," Revka said.

"No, let him see, he's a fighter," Fausten said.

Daylen knelt beside his grandfather, tears falling from his eyes. He saw his grandfather, a strong man, the person he thought of as the strongest of all men lying on the ground as weak and defenceless as he was. The boy choked and shook his head in denial.

"Daylen Amell," Elthina whispered.

Daylen touched the blood flowing from Fausten's chest and screamed. Aristide rushed into the Chantry and looked at his dying brother in horror. His eyes turned to Perrin and overcome by rage he drew his sword and began walking towards the former Viscount. Meredith nodded to her knights and they immediately restrained the Amell head. Daylen's hands shook and he grit his teeth together, burying his head in his grandfather's robe. He raised his head, revealing the blood that had soaked the fringe of his hair and left cheek.

"I wont…let it end…LIKE THIS!" the child screamed.

Elthina moved to hug the boy, but stopped in horror. The boy's eyes began to shine red and the blood from the dead mother rose from the ground. It swirled in the air and the knights, particularly Meredith looked at the boy defensively.

"I WONT LET HIM DIE!" Daylen yelled.

The blood suddenly flew at Fausten, enveloping his wound. Light began to shine from the stab mark as the blood formed a scab, weaving the broken arteries back together and forming scabbing over the torn flesh. Fausten let out a sharp breath, raising his head from Revka's lap. The light left Daylen's eyes, but his blue eyes, the most common trait of the Amell's had changed, they had instead turned a blood red colour. Fausten touched the healed area in amazement and Daylen looked at the people around him, confused by the horror in their eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Daylen you're a…" Revka could not bring herself to say the word, she instead stood up and gripped her mouth.

"Why are you crying mother?" Daylen asked. "Grandfather is going to be okay, we're all going to be okay, things can go back to the way they were," he ignorantly stated.

"Blood magic," Meredith snarled.

"But the way he used it, to heal, that's never been done and from a child no less," an older templar, Emeric stated.

"Seize him," Meredith said.

Daylen shook in fear as two templars approached him.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked.

"Don't…don't fight them boy," Fausten lowered his head.

Leandra looked at her cousin and uncle in horror. She expected them both to lunge at the templars, to protect their beloved son and grandson. Her legs shook as she was too overcome by fear to help. Tears began gushing from Daylen's eyes as the knights yanked him off of the floor.

"Mother, grandfather, what have I done wrong?" he asked.

His voice had become hysterical as he struggled under the grip of the templars.

"Please, PLEASE TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG!" he screamed and screamed, looking at his idols helplessly.

Meredith put her sword on her back and raised her hand to Daylen's head. Light shined from the woman's gloved hands. The flash caused Daylen to yell and swing his head down, driven unconscious by the power all templars commanded.

"A smite, on a child Meredith?" Emeric looked at Meredith in horror.

"He would have grown angry if left unchecked, he has already resorted to blood magic, possession from a demon is inevitable," Meredith explained.

Perrin looked between Daylen and Fausten. Whilst Fausten was overcome by shock, unmoving and relenting, the boy was barely conscious, showing a strength his idol didn't have. The former Viscount leant forward, glaring at Meredith.

"You were born', that's what you were thinking of saying to him wasn't it? Don't deny it Stannard, I've seen your hatred for mages, and you…" his eyes turned to Elthina, "You claim to be the wise, all caring leader but you know of the abuse your 'champions of the just' commit, you **know** what goes on behind the walls of that tower, YOU ARE A FOOL GRAND CLERIC! ANY OF YOU WHO CONDONE THE CIRCLE ARE FOOLS! SUPERSTITOUS AND COWARDLY FOOLS, EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"

Meredith punched Perrin across the head. He spat a blob of blood onto the flaming sword symbol on Meredith's chest plate.

"One day everyone will understand what it is to see their child taken from them, one day they will say enough, the old ways will burn!"

"GET THIS MAN OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Meredith yelled.

Perrin smiled as he was dragged away. He smiled in his cell as the revered mother of Orlais came to Kirkwall with her seeker guard. After the seekers and templars restored order they subjected Perrin to a one sided trial, his fate had been decided since the day he attacked the Chantry but he smiled through the formality. He smiled even when the executioners hung him. Word quickly spread amongst the nobility that the Amell line had been tainted, that Daylen Amell was a mage. The nobility dared not go against the will of the templars and the Chantry. Months after Threnhold's execution Dumar was declared Viscount, what was dismissed as rumour became fact amongst the people that Dumar only achieved power because of Meredith and Elthina and that it was the templars whom held the true authority over Kirkwall. As for Daylen, Meredith wished him to be made tranquil, but Elthina sought a more merciful solution. With the circle tower in need of repair due to Perrin's rebellion, the revered mother declared that all underage mages including apprentices were to be sent to the circle in Ferelden. Aristide chose to visit his grand nephew.

"Grand uncle," Daylen's eyes shined with hope as Aristide entered his cell.

"My boy," Aristide hugged the child, frowning at the chain and iron clamped to his heel.

Outside of the cell, two templars watched the exchange between the Amell head and the child. One of the knights was a young man with red hair, whilst the other was a slightly older man with brown hair.

"Its disgusting how we treat mage children Thrask," the older knight said.

"I agree, but there is not much we can do with the new Knight-Commander," the young knight sighed.

"To make a woman like Meredith Knight-Commander…it is inappropriate, her hatred for mages is clear as is the hatred of all those loyal to her. Fear does more harm than magic truly can, fear turns people into animals, fear has driven us into becoming tyrants over our fellows, I will not tolerate this for much longer Thrask, this isn't the order I joined," the older knight punched the wall in anger before he walked away.

"Maurevar Carver," Thrask called out to the templar, wondering how far Carver's doubt of the order had gone.

"What have I done wrong uncle, why can't I go home?" Daylen asked.

"Don't ever think that you have done something wrong boy, I know it isn't fair but this is simply the way the world is right now, I'm sorry but you cant ever go home child," Aristide explained.

"But, but I haven't done anything wrong!" Daylen cried.

"Listen to me child, magic has been in our family since its formation, but it is only now that it has awakened, there has to be a reason for it, I believe that there is a reason why you have been born a mage…it is up to you to find that reason, to prove to everyone whom calls you a danger, who calls your magic a curse wrong, to turn that curse into a gift for all your fellow men of Thedas. You'll be alone for a while, but if you try hard enough you'll make some friends that are really worth having, friends who will support you no matter what and friends who you will feel compelled to support no matter what they ask, people worth dying for, rely on yourself Daylen but don't squander or ignore what you can learn at the tower!"

Aristide pulled the boy into a hug, having told him what he knew his brother would say. Daylen hugged the only relative who visited him harder than he had ever hugged anyone before. Fausten grew depressed over the loss of his most cherished grandson and didn't visit the docks to watch the Chantry boat depart. Leandra, Aristide and his son, Leandra's younger brother Gamlen watched however. Meredith permitted them to only wave at the boy as Templars took him to the hold like a prisoner. In the years that followed, the Amell family's reputation began to fall apart, both personally and financially. Fausten fell deeper into his depression and his son fell deeper into debt. At the same time Aristide's household faced greater struggles. Leandra had fallen in love with a mage, so deeply in love that when Aristide made her choose between him and the family, she chose her lover Malcom Hawke. After gaining funds through an unknown means and with the aid of a kind Templar, Malcolm and Leandra left the Free Marches for a new life. Aristide and Fausten shared the same grief, having lost the family members that they cherished the most. Fausten lost his estate paying for the debts his son had incurred. In time Aristide and Fausten lost touch with one another and Fausten eventually moved away from Kirkwall. Aristide and his wife eventually fell to a wasting sickness, the heir of the Amells continually called out for his daughter. The Amell estate passed to Gamlen, whom after years of pursuing treasure and incurring debt had to sell the estate to slavers. It was thus that the Amells had fallen, Fausten's children passed and Gamlen's wife left him. People said that magic had tainted the Amell line and destroyed it. In the years that followed Viscount Dumar ruled under the eye of the Templars, maintaining positive diplomatic relations with other nations, some said at the cost of more power to the Chantry. Internally however crime, corruption even slavery markets flourished under Dumar's ignorant rule.

Daylen Amell however lived on. Through the crippling and cold silence of his Templar guards, the sickness induced by the journey and his own grief, Daylen survived and reached what would be his new home in the coming years. His walk through the fields of Fereldan would be his last moment of true freedom. People stayed away from the templars, watching as they led young mages and apprentices on the road to Lake Calenhad.

The journey continued for Daylen as he headed towards his new home. He kept his eyes to the ground, ever since they left Gwaren and passed through Amaranthine he had been counting the steps it took to reach the tower. They apparently weren't even half way, the Templars were polite when they spoke to him, but most avoided it. Occasionally Daylen would hear whispers of what he had done to save his grandfather and it was then that he began to understand, they feared him. More and more Daylen began to feel that it was with good reason. The dangers of his powers became apparent from the moment he stepped into the circle tower. His arrival came when a demon rampaged through the tower, towards the entrance. He watched as Knight-Commander Greigor drew his sword and struck the creature of rage down. The Knight-Commander then turned to Daylen, recognising the fear and confusion in his eyes and said:

"That's why you're here, so you learn how not to turn into that."

Thus it was over a period of eighteen years that Daylen lived in the tower. He never used blood magic again, but he was never able to shape the mana necessary to perform curative spells. Under First Enchanter Irving's guidance, Daylen learnt how to control his abilities and of the dangers of the Fade. He established bonds, gaining friends and rivals, yet he felt alone as his uncle said he would be, he took his lessons to heart but he never shook away the feeling that he didn't belong at the tower. Even so he continued to improve in his discipline and knowledge, eventually completing his Harrowing in the thirtieth year of the dragon age. During that time, darkspawn movement began to increase in Ferelden, so much so that the grey wardens, fearing another blight launched extensive recruitment campaigns as King Cailan assembled his army. They recruited warriors, hunters, thieves, anyone with talent and even criminals, invoking the right of conscription to recruit people of all races. Daylen's life changed when Ferelden grey warden commander Duncan went to the circle tower at the same time as Daylen sought to help his friend Jowan escape.

Bound by the will of the right and guided by his grandfather's memory, his master's teachings and the power of his passenger, Daylen moved towards a destiny at Ostagar that would bound his life to that of many others, and would trigger the winds of change throughout Thedas.

Next Chapter 1: Journey

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Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

Next time we skip to Daylen as an adult (I've based his look on the character image on the front cover, Yoshitsugu Otani of Samurai Warriors 4) as he remembers the fifth blight and his actions during that period, we are also introduced to some of his new companions whom are all familiar faces.

Please review and tell me what you thought of the chapter, I wanted to capture the innocence of a child and how they would react to suddenly being dragged away from their home (cause they would wonder what they've done wrong) and at the same time establish the bond the Amell family had before it all fell apart.

Also I intend to make this a Fenris/Hawke romance in the future and I've fallen for the Carver/Merrill idea. What do you guys think?


	2. Chapter 1: Journey

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age

This chapter is mostly a recounting of Daylen's adventures during the Blight, with focus on some moments that defined Daylen, resulting in the character you will see throughout this fic.

Hope everyone enjoys it

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Rise of the Hawks: Reunion

Chapter 1: Journey

A year and six months had passed since he left the tower, since he stopped considering it home. The only person he truly valued there was gone and he was still trying to find him. Daylen's life had changed, he was truly free but it didn't feel as fulfilling as he would have liked it to be. Watching the waves crash around the wooden boat was about the only serene and tranquil thing Daylen enjoyed. Any place else and he would have thought about battle, about the things he had lost and the things he had taken. Never once in his time at the circle did he believe he was capable of taking so many lives. When he left the circle he believed the only thing he would have to kill was Darkspawn. But Lothering opened his eyes to that fact. Not only had he killed bandits but men under the command of a man who should have been his enemy.

* * *

"Give Loghain a message when you see him," Daylen said.

"What?" the man at his mercy asked.

"Tell him, the Wardens survived Ostagar, tell him they know what he did," Daylen snarled.

As soon as the man had limped away, Daylen rubbed his forehead. He didn't believe he was capable of such violence. The bruise on his right eye still stung, but it had at least proven that he could take a punch despite his thin size.

"Great, Loghain's become the regent, I cant believe he'd have us hunted down like this," Alistair said.

It had been weeks since Daylen had left his prison the circle tower of lake calenhad. Duncan of the grey wardens had taken him to become part of the prestigious organisation. At one time grey wardens had been the stuff of legends, the heroes Daylen's grandfather often used to inspire him when training. Duncan had seemed like a good man when he first met him, when he walked him to his room at the tower. He seemed even more finer a man when he had seen the good in Daylen's decision to help Jowan escape. But ultimately his expectations of Duncan were too high. He stopped seeing Duncan as a good man when he went through the joining.

Grey Wardens gained their powers, immunity to the effects of the taint and an ability to sense darkspawn, by drinking darkspawn blood infused with lyrium altered by magic. It had a low survival rate, as proven when Daylen's fellow recruit Daveth drank from the cup. That sight of Daveth choking, poisoned by the blood and the lyrium terrified Daylen then. But even more so, the moment that defined Duncan in Daylen's eyes haunted him. Another recruit, a knight called Jory, an expectant father, a man scared of dying and leaving his family alone refused to drink the blood. Duncan drew his blade and killed him.

"Maybe we deserve it," Daylen whispered.

"What did you say Daylen?" Alistair asked.

"Distraction will get you killed," Morrigan said.

Duncan died at Ostagar, along with the king of Ferelden and his army. Every other senior grey warden died also, all because of the betrayal of Loghain Mac Tir. His was a name known even in the tower. He was respected as a hero amongst the people; his daughter was even the Queen. Alistair and Daylen only got away because of the intervention of Morrigan's mother, the witch of the wilds Flemeth. She had protected treaties the grey wardens could use to summon allies, had healed Alistair and Daylen's wounds and left them with the cryptic message that there was more to the blight than they believed. She also forced Morrigan to go with them, in a way like Daylen she had to leave the only home she knew. Morrigan was a beautiful woman, but not very pleasant.

"Gagh!" Daylen grunted as a weight forced him to the floor.

He was broken out of his distracted state by the brown furred Mabari hound. As big as bears, the intelligent dogs imprinted on owners. Alpha had imprinted on Daylen when he treated his blight-induced sickness. The hound swept his tongue over Daylen's pale face, causing Alistair to laugh.

"You handled yourself pretty well, and it was good that you spared them," the chantry sister said.

Whilst the rest of the people in Lothering stood by and watched as they were confronted by Loghain's enforcers, a sister from the chantry helped them. She had been diplomatic at first, but when the men drew their blades she dispatched some with a dagger concealed in her robes. Daylen looked up at the red haired sister, awestruck by her beauty. She smiled at his affection and offered him his hand.

"I am Leliana!"

It was like the many fantasies his grandfather had told him, except the experience was anything but. After the massacre of the Ferelden army at Ostagar, and their interlude at Lothering where they discovered just how terrible the state of the kingdom was, Daylen and his company of four and a dog set out. Their allies grew in number, first with Sten of the Barrassad, vanguard of the Qunari people, then with the Antivan assassin Zevran. At Orzammar they gained the loyalty of Oghren, a disgraced member of the dwarven warrior caste. Then when Daylen returned to the circle tower, senior enchanter and healer Wynn joined him. The party travelled across Ferelden, righting wrongs as the heroes of the fantasies did. But it was no fantasy, there was not always a happy ending waiting at the end of the path.

* * *

"You have deceived me!" the demon standing before him screeched.

"Of course, do you really think I'd let you walk out of here?" Daylen asked.

"You will not keep me from what I seek," the cat snarled.

"Kitty, what's wrong?" the innocent girl next to the demon asked.

The cat suddenly turned into light and a bright flash knocked Daylen and his companions back. He rose from the floor and widened his eyes. There was no sign of the girl and her cat. Hovering above where the girl once stood was the very thing Daylen had been taught at the tower to resist. But the girl, young and naïve, unaware of the danger of trust was a ripe target for the demon imprisoned in the basement. The desire demon stood as tempting as Leliana and Morrigan, horns and black flames accounted for its hair.

"No," Alistair spoke Daylen's words perfectly.

"NOOO!" the volume of the statement was louder from Daylen's mouth.

Flames covered his hands and enveloped the desire demon. Zevran threw a dagger into the woman's head and Alistair ran her through with his sword. The flames began to consume the demon and Daylen walked towards it. A corpse fell to the floor, but it was not the body of a fully-grown, voluptuous desire demon. It was the corpse of a five-year-old girl. Daylen gasped, his mouth and eyes wide in absolute horror. His companions, even Zevran was overcome by shock.

"There was no other way," Sten said.

"Indeed, though perhaps it was better if we did not keep the demon from its prey at all," Morrigan said.

Daylen fell to his knees and touched the burning corpse.

"No, why, why did it happen…why couldn't I save her…he trusted me to save his daughter," he whispered.

"Daylen, there was nothing you could've done," Alistair said.

"Should've done better, at the tower, at Ostagar," with each location, Daylen banged his fist into the ground, mana surged through him as his anger flourished.

"Leave the past where it lays Kadan," Sten said in an almost soothing manner.

Daylen couldn't bring himself to recall that dreading sorrow the girl's father tried to hide. A part of him probably knew that it was hopeless, that his daughter couldn't be saved. The group gained a new addition in the sentient golem Shale and resumed their guest, to recruit certain groups within Thedas to aid against the blight. The treaties they carried obligated the groups involved to dedicate forces to the grey wardens. But every location came with a problem, that they had to solve. At Orzammar they had to appoint a new king, leading to a confrontation with Oghren's wife, the discovery of Shale's past, the destruction of the anvil of the void and the deaths of the last two paragons and ending with the crowning of Bhelen Aeducan, a man who would change Orzammar for the better but at the expense of the death of a whole family. In between the circle tower and the Brecilian forest, Daylen followed the advice of Alistair and sought allies at Redcliffe. But upon reaching the village, they found that the castle had been locked up and the villagers were under siege. Resolving to save lives instead of take them, Daylen rallied the people to defend their homes, pointing out tactics and flaws in the environment they could use against the Undead forces and even cajoling passers by to fight. It was only a preview of the leadership skills Daylen would come to rely on. They saved the village with minimum casualties, but Daylen's sense of accomplishment was shattered when he infiltrated the palace dungeons.

"Hello, is someone there?" a voice asked from one of the only occupied cells.

Daylen and his group curiously looked into the cell. Both the occupant and Daylen himself widened their eyes. Standing in the cell, his robes ripped and splotches of blood across his face was Jowan, Daylen's best friend at the tower and one of the only ones whom made it seem like a home.

"You, I never thought I'd see you again, especially in a place like this," Jowan said.

"Jowan what are you doing here? No, you were the mage Lady Isolde spoke of?" Daylen asked.

"Yes, I know what it looks like, but I swear I had nothing to do with what happened here. After I escaped from the circle I was approached by Teryn Loghain, in exchange for settling matters with the circle I agreed…to poison Arl Eamon," Jowan explained.

Alistair's expression changed from one of contempt and suspicion to the mage.

"Its not that simple is it, there had to be a reason why you could get close to Eamon in the first place, Conner, Isolde's son is a mage!"

"What makes you say that Daylen?" Alistair asked.

"Daylen's right, Conner started showing signs of being a mage, Lady Isolde grew afraid because she knew that no matter how much Arl Eamon loved their son he would commit to the law and send him to the circle, I came to her promising to teach her son how to hide his abilities, I used that to gain entry to the Arl and poison him," Jowan explained. "I thought I was doing a service to my country, that Loghain would free me, but its all fallen apart hasn't it?" the young man's voice grew hysterical with regret. "I've failed again, please you have to let me put everything right!"

"Everything you did here, or at the tower?" Daylen asked, frowning at his old friend.

"You have every right to hate me, to not trust me, do what you wish but please…tell me what happened to Lily," the mage begged.

"Lily was taken to the mage prison, she hates you Jowan for what you did."

"Oh maker, Lily, I loved her Daylen, you must believe that if nothing else."

"I do Jowan, maker…no, there's nothing capable of saving me if I put my trust in you again. But I am going to trust you, I don't think you were responsible for this Jowan, but I can hardly believe Conner alone was responsible for this either," Daylen explained.

"How could you entertain the thought?" Alistair asked.

"An unshackled mage is dangerous," Sten said.

"A child taught nothing of how to control and use their power properly is dangerous," Morrigan corrected.

"Conner does have potential, but nowhere near the kind of power necessary to cause all of this," Jowan said.

"He must have been approached in the fade by a demon, and the demon is using his body to reap havoc over Redcliffe," Daylen sighed.

Daylen took his staff and banged it against the lock. It shattered and Jowan widened his eyes as Daylen opened the door.

"Just go," Daylen shook his head, "Just leave and don't look back!"

"I swear, I will put this right!" Jowan said.

Jowan returned and suggested a method of saving Conner from the demon. Conner had not yet completely slipped under the desire demon's control. Eamon was being kept alive through both Conner's desires and the demon's power. To free Conner, Jowan suggested a ritual to send a mage into the fade to fight the demon. But rather than use blood magic, Daylen trusted Jowan, Isolde and Eamon's brother Teagun to buy time whilst the group got help from the circle tower. But upon returning to his childhood prison, Daylen found that the ambitions of the libertarian Uldred had grown beyond simple ranting. Believing that mages deserved not just freedom from the chantry, but dominion over all, Uldred instigated a rebellion with followers also tired of the tower. Knight Commander Greigor had called for the right of annulment from Denerim, which would have given him the authority to slaughter every mage in the tower. Again rather than give into the easier option of murder, Daylen chose to save the circle.

* * *

Daylen awoke from his dazed state. Uldred, reduced to the form of a Pride demon towered over his companions. He threw Sten against the wall and slammed his fist into Alistair's shield. Rage demons swiped at Leliana and Zevran, whom stood back to back parrying against the blows. Shale marched towards Uldred, locking hands with the taller giant. Daylen's eye then darted to the figures trapped in the barriers. They had been set out like sacrifices at a ritual, but the allusion wasn't untrue. Irving and the other senior enchanters would die if he didn't take action. He reached into his poach, the Litany that Nial had given his life to protect, the key to halting the control blood magic gave. Daylen threw the book across the room, at the feet of Wynn. He then squeezed his hand into a fist, gathering mana before unleashing a fire spell on the Pride demon's back.

"ULDRED!" he yelled.

The Pride demon turned and growled at Daylen.

"This is power you could have had boy, but instead you squander our gifts and waste your talents," the demon, or perhaps Uldred growled at the young mage.

Daylen took a staff from the ground and twirled it around. He slapped the tip against the ground and waited as his allies steeled themselves for an attack.

"You are right, I did have the opportunity to have power like yours, but I made the right choice, to reject the demon's offer unlike you. You are also wrong in saying I waste my talents, I simply choose to take a different path to power, to wisdom and I'm happy for it, because I have something you will never have with all your powers Uldred," Daylen explained.

"And what could you possibly have that I simply can't take?" Uldred asked.

"Friends," Daylen smiled before clicking his fingers.

He triggered a vibration in the floor, causing the ground beneath Uldred to crack. Leliana threw a flash bomb directly into Uldred's face, shattering his perceptions. He yelled in agony as Zevran stabbed daggers empowered with ice magic into his back.

"Thank you my dear," Zevran winked at Morrigan.

Sten and Alistair ran at Uldred, slashing his sides. Leliana fired an arrow into his neck and Morrigan threw a stone fist into his back. He regained his bearings and looked towards Wynne. His fellow senior enchanter read from the litany, destroying the seals binding the other senior mages.

"People only followed you because you offered them something no one else did," Daylen said, ducking underneath Uldred's claws. "You isolated yourself from others, always claiming you had all the answers, when the truth is you never did. Worst of all, you used the suffering others had endured to further your own selfish goal, you know nothing of doing something for others, and you live only for yourself. You were prideful long before the demon made an offer Uldred!"

Uldred lunged at Daylen, only for Sten to stop his claw with his great sword. He stabbed the blade into Uldred's arm, pinning it to the ground. Alistair then hacked at Uldred's wrist as Leliana fired an arrow with a line attached to it. The line latched onto Uldred's back and Leliana threw the line to Shale. As Alistair continued slashing at Uldred's arm, Shale pulled on the wire. Alistair's sword ripped away at the pride demon's flesh, severing arteries and cracking bone. Shale pulled at the wire, intending to rip Uldred away from his arm. But his back gave in first; the golem pulled and ripped a chunk of flesh off of Uldred's back. Alistair then delivered a final swing, cutting off Uldred's limb.

"CURSE YOU! I WILL NOT BE DENIED!" the mage yelled.

"You already have," Daylen began covering the staff he held in ice.

"Irving," Wynne sighed in relief as the seals around Irving broke.

Daylen finished covering the staff with ice, turning it into a hammer. Sten and Alistair grabbed the hammer as Zevran hit Uldred's face with a bomb. The two warriors yelled as they swung the hammer down on Uldred, imbedding it in his chest. He fell to the floor, which finally collapsed down into the library. Daylen looked through the hole Uldred had made and watched as the buried demon shrunk, to the point where his human form could no longer be seen under the rubble. He turned to the other mages and ran to aid his teacher.

"Daylen, you came back," Irving whispered.

"It's a long story, but for now we need to get you to Greigor, he said he wouldn't stop the right of annulment unless he saw you," Daylen said.

"The right of annulment? Then thank the maker you came child, come help me to the templars, ah, curse whoever had the idea of making the circle in a tower!"

Daylen laughed with his old mentor as they and the people whom followed him began walking down the tower.

He had saved the tower that day and set the bar for the mages. They had gained determination from Daylen's success to match that success against the darkspawn. Quickly returning to Redcliffe, Irving and the other mages used lyrium and seals to prepare a spell that would save Conner. The spell involved sending another mage into the fade to directly confront the demon that had tempted Conner. It was a demon of desire, and having constantly thought of what happened the day he met Shale and at the circle tower, Daylen was determined to save at least one life from the clutches of desire. But he wanted to prove that Jowan could be redeemed, so he selected the blood mage to enter the fade. Jowan returned from the fade and the magic controlling Conner faded. The Arl was still sick however and his only hope rested in the hands of blind faith. For that was what Daylen had considered at the time the power of the urn of sacred ashes to be. Tracking the exploits of brother Genetivi and the trail of blood left by a dragon cult, Daylen and his friends went to a remote village in the mountains. There they discovered the dragon cult that had imprisoned Genetivi and killed anyone who sought the ashes.

They cut their way through the village of heretics and rampaged through the caves they made their homes in. After killing their leader, the group discovered that the cult worshipped what they thought was Andraste incarnate, a high dragon that flew around the mountains. Killing the beast, Daylen and his allies resumed their march through the mountains and came upon a mysterious man. A guardian whom seemed to have otherworldly powers protected a place of mysterious magic and power, the gauntlet. Daylen's faith wasn't strong, and the guardian sensed that as well as all of his doubts and his deep regret over not being able to help Jowan. After answering the guardians questions Daylen proceeded into the gauntlet and realised that the tests were not about faith at all. He kept the thought to himself though, answering each riddle, solving each puzzle and walking towards his goal. But it was at the midway point of the gauntlet that Daylen met someone he didn't expect to meet.

"Had fun with the riddle game?"

Daylen looked upon the figure in front of him. He may as well have been a ghost. Jowan stood before him, yet Jowan was also at Redcliffe. Jowan was a broken man, his confidence shaken by his repeated failures. But somewhere in the eyes of the doppelganger Daylen saw what his old friend once was. He saw the happiness before the unfair policies of the circle took over.

"I didn't think I'd fool you, but am I really a spirit? Or is this all in your mind? Are you in the fade perhaps?" the shadow asked Daylen all the questions he asked himself and the mage begun to wonder if it was his own inner doubts. "Honestly I don't know, I am part of the gauntlet. I am Jowan I am you. All of these statements are true!"

"Why are you here?" Daylen asked.

"To speak to you and to offer advice. You have wondered many times if what happened to me was your doing. Perhaps if we had taken another route or had been more prepared things would be different. But it is too easy to obsess over 'what if' and 'what could have been.' These thoughts will eat away at you if you let them. Forgive yourself just as I have forgiven you."

The illusion had smiled, giving Daylen an amulet and words that were supposed to push him forward. But Daylen was still haunted; the illusion crafted by the gauntlet had only strengthened his doubts. He never doubted the Darkspawn needed to be stopped; he only doubted the cost that had to be paid. The lines he had to cross and the right he had to cross those lines were what always haunted him. Even as he stood on the deck of a ship, making his way to a place that wasn't Ferelden. For Ferelden had nothing but expectations there, expectations and memories. Freedom had changed him, for in his path to gather allies Daylen had pushed himself to stay a good man. It was in the Brecillian forest that Daylen discovered knowledge that belonged to the Dalish. He kept the power and teachings of the arcane warriors and set free the spirit that could have taught them to the elves. A part of him felt they didn't deserve recovering that piece of their past. For it was Zathrian, the keeper of the dalish tribe charged with aiding the wardens, whom forged with his hatred and his magic a curse that destroyed families. The werewolves had existed because of him and in the end, rather than kill either side Daylen pushed Zathrian into letting go of his hatred and his life.

* * *

What should have been an example of the tragedy anger could bring did not wipe aside what was in Daylen's heart. The ashes of Andraste saved Eamon, whom in turn laid out sentence on Jowan. As Daylen dreaded his friend was returned to the unforgiving hands of the chantry. For all their talk of forgiveness and freedom the church never truly valued it. There were only aspects of the light that appealed to Daylen. As his faith in himself began to wane, he turned more and more to Morrigan. Her ways never had a great appeal to him in the beginning, but as Daylen became more and more aware of the harsh cruelty of the world he began to lean towards Morrigan's line of ruthless thinking. So much so that when Morrigan requested his help in killing her mother, Daylen didn't bat an eyelid. The battle against the witch of the wilds was long and harsh and Daylen claimed a vicious burn on his back. Frustrated with his continuous battles and the lectures of his friends, Daylen ignored Wynn's guidance and offers of care and pushed Leliana's affections aside.

"They will never completely heal," Morrigan told him.

He sat in her tent, shirtless with the witch tracing her hands across his back. She flipped through the pages of her mother's grimoire and smiled. Morrigan bit her thumb, drawing blood from the wound. Then she traced her blood across the burn on Daylen's back. He grit his teeth together, bashing his fists against the ground. The healing magic was more painful than anything Daylen had felt before. Morrigan placed her hands over the mark that had been left from the healing.

"These are ancient ways, lost ways, my mother had a means to use blood to heal even the worst of wounds. It is no longer infected and in theory you will not suffer from pain later in life, or as long a life as you can have…still your chances are much better now," Morrigan smirked slightly.

"Why are my chances better?" Daylen asked.

"Because you no longer have that naiveté in your eyes," she said.

"I have only darkness in my eyes, this anger, it'll eat away at me, I know it," he lowered his head and sighed.

"You are wrong," Morrigan said.

She gripped his chin and pulled his face around.

"You have surpassed that circle slave I met in the wilds, you have become a true survivor, the only one whom can defeat the Archdemon. Tomorrow we go to Denerim, where they will accept your command or else they will all die!"

Bound in steel and powered by the lost magic he had absorbed, the arcane warrior walked with his companions and the Arl into Denerim itself. It was in Ferelden's capital that the bond Daylen had forged with Alistair fell apart. Gradually Daylen took drastic steps to assure the cooperation of Ferelden's nobles. He unleashed his wrath on Arl Howe, Loghain's ally responsible for the massacre of the Cousland clan. He unleashed his wrath on Ser Cathrien, Loghain's fanatically loyal lieutenant. He unleashed his wrath and the power of blood on the slavers that had infested the Denerim alienage.

Drenched in the blood of those whom had crossed him, Daylen had an epiphany. He realised that for all his cursing of Duncan, Loghain and the templars he had become just like them. His thoughts had drifted to that memory, that final memory he had of Kirkwall. Meredith's hatred, his mother's fear, the righteous fury of the Viscount all became reflections of those closest to Daylen. In Morrigan he saw the demons that had spurred him on, hiding evil deeds with words like 'survival' and 'necessity'. It was in Alistair that he saw anger over his ruthlessness and his disregard for the sacrifices of their brethren. Leliana looked at him with the same fear Daylen saw in the eyes of his mother and the grip of the chantry. As one noble after another spoke of their support of the wardens, as Loghain challenged him and fell at his feet, Daylen came to his ultimate conclusion. The senior warden Riordan suggested that Loghain become a grey warden and Daylen agreed.

"No, you can't be serious," Alistair snarled.

He stood between his closest friend and his greatest enemy. But Daylen's decision was clear, as was the effect it had on him.

"Loghain was a hero once before Alistair, don't let selfishness lead you astray," Daylen said.

"Selfishness? Are you not selfish Daylen? Has your actions up until now not been guided by your desire to see Loghain fall? Have you forgotten how many people died at Ostagar, the king, Duncan and our brothers? I will not fight alongside that man, nor will I fight alongside those whom choose to let him live," Alistair explained.

The anger was as clear on Alistair's face as the guilt was on Daylen's. But the young man raised his head and narrowed his eyes.

"I have been selfish, consumed by my own anger and my own will and I can not arrogantly say that my will is any more important than another's. I can not say that I am bound by honour, by a code, by duty or the gods, alls I can say is that I am bound by my own will as all creatures are in the end," Daylen shook his head and squeezed his hand into a fist, "I'm sick of it Alistair, we've left so many dead behind us, made too many compromises, as many as Loghain has. If I carry on like this, killing because it seems more convenient then how long before I start stabbing men whom only wished to go back to their pregnant wife?" Daylen's guilt became a glare and it struck at Alistair.

Daylen wasn't just defending Loghain he was cursing Duncan as well.

"How dare you compare Duncan to Loghain," Alistair snarled.

"The only difference between them is that Duncan closed his eyes when he betrayed those whom trusted him," Daylen said.

To Daylen's credit he took Alistair's punch well. The other companions looked at the two wardens in shock. Daylen stood with a disappointed expression on his face.

"Forget it then, I wont follow men whom betray their allies," Alistair said.

Daylen narrowed his eyes at Anora as Alistair walked past him. Though his friend was abandoning him, Daylen's desire to protect him was still there. The look was one of warning that if Anora obscured Alistair's path she would pay.

* * *

Thus Loghain joined the group. With Loghain's aid they recovered the old keep of the Wardens and cleared Denerim of its political strife and criminal presence. Anora had quickly established herself as a firm and fair ruler. The people loved her and even the Alienage recovered due mostly to the efforts of an enthusiastic and outspoken young woman Shianni. Slowly but surely each force that Daylen had united began to pull its army together. Dwarven warriors and metal came in from Orzammar, with Bhelen negotiating a trade agreement with Anora. The legion of the dead, led by a young Dwarven woman whom introduced herself as simply Sereda promised to cut off the Darkspawn as they retreated. Dalish clans already in Ferelden gathered to join Zathrien's successor Lanaya in raiding bodies of the horde. Guards and volunteers in Denerim began forming defences and blacksmiths produced armour and weapons. Those whom had survived at the tower enchanted weapons for the army to use.

In the end the circle mages, dwarven warriors and Dalish archers marched towards the capital, once word had hit that the horde was attacking. Daylen and his companions joined with Eamon's forces at Redcliffe. There Daylen and Loghain learnt of the true power behind the wardens and why they were necessary to defeat the Darkspawn and stop the blights. Riordan explained that the darkspawn were soulless husks and that the corrupt spirit of the old god within the Archdemon would seek out a creature bearing the taint upon its death. In essence the Archdemon was immortal and that if anyone besides a warden killed the dragon then the blight would not be stopped. Grey Wardens carried the taint and if they killed the Archdemon, then the spirit of the creature would be drawn to them. But two souls cannot exist in one body, thus both the spirit of the old god and the warden whom delivered the final blow would fade. In order to end the Blight a warden had to sacrifice himself.

'All that talk of duty and sacrifice and you people only ever wanted men to throw at the demon,' Daylen huffed as he looked at the blood amulet, the evidence that he had been a warden.

Riordan and Loghain offered themselves, the former due to the taint not sparing him for much longer and the latter for his past misdeeds. Daylen however was willing to make that sacrifice himself. Morrigan probably saw that too. She proposed to Daylen, in the dimly lit bedroom a way out for him. It was a ritual; one suggested by Flemeth herself, it had been the very reason Morrigan had joined the group. But Daylen refused, despite Morrigan's pleas he refused. Morrigan left and after a night spent contemplating the life he had lived, the mistakes he had made and the events that led him to that night, Daylen made another choice.

But it was a futile choice, Loghain beat him to it. The hero of river Dane took up the sword Daylen had failed to wield and drove it into the head of the Archdemon. Loghain made the sacrifice, yet Daylen was honoured as the hero. He received the titles, the stories and the admiration of the realm. Not many accepted Loghain as the hero he was or at least the hero he chose to be in his final moment.

'Do you either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain?' Daylen wondered.

He looked at the blood amulet and sighed. Being a grey warden was something he once wanted to be. A hero whom people looked to when all hope was lost. The reality was different from the fantasy. It was filled with compromise, that was the truth about life really. The day he first used magic in the chantry had robbed him of his innocence but it wasn't until after his journey was over that he truly discovered what it meant to be a man. It meant taking responsibility for your actions, forging your own way and living by a code. But who said that code had to be one given to you? Faith was powerful, but who said you had to kill for it? The Qun had wisdom but who said he had to worship the maker, who said he had to follow the Qun to the letter? Sten once told him that seeking wisdom was the basis of the Qun and what Coslun had done to form it. So Daylen would seek wisdom wherever he could find it, he would face the bad, the storms, the murderers and those whom abused their power and take on the good lessons as his own. Every mistake and every triumph served to make him stronger and wiser, that was what growing up and changing for the better was all about.

"That's the wisdom I choose," Daylen said.

Then he let go of the amulet and let the blood red stone drop into the sea. He would go to Kirkwall and find out what had happened to his family, learn from it and if the city of chains offered nothing to fight for then he would continue his journey.

"MAKER DAYLEN!"

He cautiously placed his hand to his concealed weapon as he turned to where the scream had come from. Daylen sighed; Herren had a furious look across his face. The blonde haired man had run a smithy in Denerim with his eccentric partner Wade. Herren was a good businessman but not very likable.

'I suppose he has his fine points,' Daylen chuckled.

"You've been gone for hours and your mutt will not stop whimpering," Herren said.

"He doesn't like enclosed spaces, it reminds him too much of the kennels at Ostagar," Daylen sighed.

"Well hurry up and put a muzzle on him before he mauls Bevin," one of Herren's fine points was his sensible nature, both in business and life.

Daylen put on a confident smile. Though Alpha was a war hound he was gentle at heart. The brown furred Mabari had also taking a liking to Daylen's ward. As soon as Daylen opened the door, the massive Mabari tackled his master. The Mabari dragged his tongue across Daylen's face, trying to get through the coverings and wrapping he used to conceal his face.

"Eyuck, thank goodness you left my creations at the keep," Wade quivered.

Daylen laughed as he patted Alpha's head. Wade was a very eccentric man, more so than most Orlesian's Daylen had met. But his skill as a blacksmith was undeniable despite his perfectionism. Daylen got off the floor, running his gloved hands through his face. It was a far cry from the way he used to look, scars had become decorations, Wynn even said once that if she hadn't met Daylen before he got his scars she would have thought he was a different man.

"I'm sorry Lord Amell I tried to keep an eye on him," Bevin said.

"It is all right Bevin, and don't call me Lord," Daylen smiled.

After six months of touring and five months of service as Arl of Amaranthine, Daylen chose to continue his tour. But he didn't go alone, Wade and Herren came to establish themselves in Kirkwall as there had been rumours of drakes being found in the bone bit. Bevin wanted to learn from Daylen, ever since the warden used his grandfather's green blade he had developed a dream to become just as famous and skilled a hero. Daylen accepted Bevin as an apprentice because he admired the boy's newfound courage. The last person to offer to accompany him was former Tavern waitress Bella.

"I overheard one of the sailors say that we'll be in Kirkwall within another day," the red haired woman said.

"That's good, in the mean time take stock of your belongings," Daylen said.

"What are you carrying besides chains?" Herren asked.

Daylen huffed as Bella and Bevin glared at the man. He always said that Daylen's clothes made him look like a prisoner, or a servant. In a way Daylen agreed whole-heartedly with him, he was a servant of the needs of the people. The other was because his robe served a very specific function in regards to his magic; the people who gifted Daylen with the robe had given him a task that tied greatly to his own. Every bit of his white robe, the gold markings across it, the decorations on his hat and face cover and even the boots all tied into the function of the robe that represented Daylen's role.

"SHIPS AHEAD! HARD TO PORT!" the group heard the sailors yelling outside.

"What's going on?" Bella asked, stumbling as the ship pulled off a sharp turn.

Daylen kept himself supported on the wall and looked at Alpha. The Mabari covered his nose with his paws and whined. He knelt by Alpha's side and patted his chest.

"Stay strong boy, you four stay together, I'm going to see what's going on, and perhaps find Adaar too," the mage said before he stood up and walked to the door.

Upon exiting the cabin Daylen began to get a good idea of why the journey had become rougher.

Next Chapter 2: Debt

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Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. The choice of companions may seem a little strange but I was going for something different, plus you'll see why the four NPC's follow Daylen in a few chapters. Daylen also has another ally who will be revealed in chapter 3.

Next time though we switch to the Hawke family and recount their childhoods, their initial unknowing encounters with their cousin and their escape to Kirkwall.


	3. Chapter 2: Debt

Disclaimer: I don't own dragon age

Hey everyone, back with another update, a somewhat in depth look into Marian Hawke's earlier life. I originally intended the chapter to be longer but I'm hoping I finished it at a good point, anyway enjoy.

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Rise of the Hawke's: Reunion

Chapter 2: Debt

Marian's life had been consumed by one single goal, protect the family. When she was little her father always told her to look after mother whenever he was working. He also taught her about the importance of family, as an only child Malcolm Hawke never had a sibling to fight for, even his parents had turned him over to the Chantry.

"Magic is part of our family, not just from my side but your mothers side as well, it will always be a part of us," he explained to his child.

She was sitting on his lap that day, looking up at the stars that seemed as magical to her young mind as the light in her father's eyes. He manipulated his own mana, creating a glitter like fireflies. Marian reached out to the lights and though they shocked her, they did not harm her. She was not afraid of her father or his magic, to her it was a wonder that never ceased to amaze her.

"Why did grandfather and grandmother send you away, had you done something wrong?" she asked.

Malcolm paused at the question. Inside their house, Leandra stopped cutting the vegetables for the stew. The question bought back a memory for her. As Malcolm looked at his wife she began to experience a flashback of that day in the chantry. The day she discovered she was with his child, the day the Viscount was arrested, the day her cousin's son was dragged away asking what he had done wrong. Malcolm bounced the girl, causing her to laugh.

"I had done nothing wrong, having magic is not wrong but there are those in power whom fear magic and they spread that fear, perhaps because they believe it is necessary to fear or because it is the only way to keep that power. We learn to control our magic child, to harness it and use it for good but there are those there who watch us, some so afraid of the danger that they no longer see us as human, others so cruel that they pray for the day we lose our strength and fall to demons. But demons do not just exist within the fade, they exist within our very hearts, not just within mages but others too, it's a responsibility of all to control their own demons and to use what power they have wisely," Malcolm explained.

"Magic exists to serve the Chantry," Marian said.

"Who told you that? The correct term is that magic exists to serve man and not rule him," Malcolm said.

"But really they mean serve the Chantry right, they're the ones who came up with it!"

Malcolm laughed and picked his girl up, swinging her around.

"My little chick, already smarter than a lay sister, you're right and they're wrong Marian, our magic must serve that which is best in us, not that which is most base," he explained.

"What does that mean?" Marian asked.

"Right now it means go to bed so that you can help your mother tomorrow," Malcolm grinned.

Marian frowned as her father ruffled her hair. Sometimes he could be kind and strict without shouting, other times you'd never get a straight answer from him. But as Marian grew older and she walked with her siblings, Bethany and Carver their mother and others in the villages they grew up in told her that out of all his children, she was the one whom took after him the most. She didn't mind it though, her father was her hero after all. Most grew up on tales of the wardens, or of dragon slayers or princes whom rescued damsels from witches. But for Marian Hawke there was only one hero, the real life hero that was her father. He worked hard to build them a life in Denerim, he worked hard to teach Bethany how to use her magic and spend time with his other two children and he worked hard to be a good husband and an active member of the village community. They had built a home in Lothering and a peaceful life.

As the three siblings grew up they began to form reputations within the village. Bethany grew more beautiful with each day and by the time she was fifteen she was the desire of most of the boys in Lothering. Marian was another story, she inherited her mothers beauty but she was different from Leandra and much more different from Bethany. Men were attracted to her, but she sometimes shot them down the hard way. There came a time when Carver was bullied by the bigger children, his reprieve from the bullying came from an unexpected source.

"Beat up my brother will you, well lets see how you like it," Marian snarled as she slammed her fists into a bigger boy's jaw.

The other boys looked at the older Hawke in fear as she continued to dirty her fists with bruises and blood.

"You there stop," a Chantry priest said, yanking Marian away from the other child.

Marian grinned slightly as she kicked the boy in the groin. She got a fierce lecture from her father, Carver however spent most of that day sulking in his room.

"Okay, what's wrong boy?" Malcolm asked his son.

"Marian fought for me today, now everyone is going to talk about how she beat up a boy twice her size," Carver set his hands on his knees, trying to hide his sulking.

"Actually he was three times her size, which kind of worked to her advantage I suppose," Malcolm grinned, puffing his cheeks to emphasize the boy's weight.

It made Carver chuckle only lightly, the boy had a lot of weight, his gut was proof of that and Marian was nimble. She was already making a name for herself by climbing onto people's roofs and watching the stars.

"But she was only trying to protect you," Malcolm said.

"I know that, but that isn't how it should be, I'm the boy I should be protecting her," Carver said.

"HA! I pity the man who believes he can be Marian's hero, one day you'll be strong, whether that's strong in body or spirit doesn't matter because there are many types of strength, as there are many types of glory, being your sister's brother isn't all bad," the older man explained.

"Really, I don't see it that way," the boy huffed.

"Well let me put it this way, she'll get in so much trouble that when you and Bethany actually cause trouble your mother and I will be too tired to yell at you," Malcolm grinned.

Carver slowly raised his head, revealing his smile. The boy's smile made his father smile too and he lifted him onto his shoulders.

"One day you'll be as strong as your sister, between you and me boy, I agree you'll be stronger, it's the duty of men to save women after all," Malcolm Hawke laughed.

So Carver grew and grew seeking to stay out if his sister's shadow. He trained and learnt from the Ferelden soldiers whom often passed through the village. His dream was to gain glory, to have his name recognised for something besides being his sisters brother. In time Carver grew into a strong young man with great talent in swordsmanship, especially with a great sword. He was a contrast to Bethany, whom never had any interest in adventuring or battle, even though Malcolm taught her to defend herself. Marian wanted to protect the family, Carver wanted to live in glory and Bethany wanted to live a good life, if not a normal one. Thus the Hawke sibling's grew, but because of the injustice of the circle, only Carver and Marian could seek their own paths away from Lothering.

"If you want peace, prepare for war, those are the words of the hero of river Dane, the one whom won our freedom from the Orlesian occupants and turned Fereldan into its own nation again. The Orlesian threat, any threat to our nation must be combated but for that we need men and women as courageous as the people whom followed the hero and our rebel king," the soldiers that passed through Lothering eventually started recruiting.

Carver was intrigued by the idea of joining the army and becoming a hero. But he wasn't going alone.

"You can't both go," Leandra told her two children.

"Don't worry mother I'll look after Carver," Marian grinned.

"To the void with your protection, I'm going for myself Marian," Carver said.

"Believe it or not Carver I'm going for me too," Marian said, but her little brother was already out of earshot.

"Is that true Marian, is this your decision for you?" Malcolm asked.

"Yes father, I want to do something for me," she said.

Malcolm nodded his head in understanding. He didn't expect his children to follow his orders forever. They were each capable of great things. Even Bethany could be great, perhaps especially Bethany, a girl with so much hope in her eyes. Bethany had hope, Carver enthusiasm and Marian had ambition, which though could lead to pride was in itself a quality. Leandra was of course against Marian and Carver joining the military, she never wanted any of her children to face danger. They still went though and joined an infantry regiment under King Cailan. Though Carver had skill with the blade it was Marian whom outshone him in the ranks. She proved to be one of the best archers in the army and had a bit more discipline than her brother.

"You archers wear so little armour, though in your case it might be an advantage," Marian promptly smacked the first grey warden recruit to perve at her.

She had a **tiny** bit more discipline than her brother.

"My apologies my lady, Daveth try not to cause too much trouble!"

The highlight of the Hawke sibling's career was Ostagar. Darkspawn began to march through the Kocari wilds, in numbers so large that the grey wardens had reason to believe that a blight had begun. King Cailan was eager to face battle and gathered armies from across the areas surrounding Ostagar, joining with the Orlesian grey wardens. Marian could see the animosity Loghain had for the foreigners, he had slightly less of a problem with the recruits though. Whilst Carver hung out with the other men in their regiment, Marian watched the recruits. Part of her was looking for a reason for Loghain's distrust, perhaps an opportunity to see if the Orlesians were really acting through the wardens. Another part of her wanted to watch the heroes of legend. Alistair was as quick with his mouth as Marian, he was a genuinely polite and well mannered man too. Daveth on the other hand was a thief and a flirt, Ser Jory was a coward, or he was at least too focused on his family. In battle Marian let all concerns slip aside, she had to in order to survive.

For a moment Marian thought 'is that it?' in regards to the grey warden recruits. But then the grey warden commander Duncan returned. Behind the tall Rivaini was a pale skinned man just a few years older than Marian. He had unkempt dark hair and wore a short sleeved black robe, styled like a coat. Duncan had obviously given him some light armour for his boots and belt and the young man had a pair of black gloves on. He seemed to enjoy his surroundings, yet at the same time he looked uncomfortable. Curiously he carried no sword or weapon. But there was something in the young man's red eyes that stabbed at Marian's curiosity. In between her duties she watched the grey warden recruit. After coming back from the wilds he cared for a wounded Mabari, spoke with Loghain and even fed a prisoner. He was kind and gentle yet when Marian heard next from Jory and Daveth they spoke of how frightening his magic was. The young man was a mage of the circle, the very place her parents were doing everything they could to keep Bethany from.

When night passed and the rain fell on Ostagar, Marian got her first taste of a real war, something she hoped she would never see again. She joined the ranks of archers, whilst Carver joined the main line of infantry. Then they saw them, the darkspawn emerging from the wilds. There was no waves of enemies, just a huge mass of creatures walking out of the forest. Then they ran as if some order had been given, ran straight towards the army. The king gave the order for the archers to let loose a volley and after a single volley the battle fell apart, at least in Marian's opinion. Cailan ordered the hounds and infantry to meet the Darkspawn charge head on. It was foolishness from an archer's perspective. They could have led the Darkspawn into the narrow valley and hit them with continuous volleys of arrows but Cailan wanted battle alongside the wardens. Marian joined the fray, cutting the throats of the monsters with her daggers. She caught a glimpse of Carver swinging his blade through Darkspawn three at a time. He had even greater skill than Cailan. The battle got bloodier and bloodier and Marian watched one soldier fall after another. For every one Darkspawn she killed ten more of her allies seemed to die.

Everything was supposed to be all right when the fire at Ishal began to glow. The army waited in anticipation for Loghain's reinforcements. But nothing came, Loghain had abandoned them. Carver still fought on, but the darkspawn horde was relentless. Cailan and Duncan fought back to back, cleaving through waves of the spawn. But not even the king nor the warden commander were a match for the ogre the darkspawn bought with them. Marian heard that the ogres were born from Kossith, Qunari brood mothers. They were pure terror, mowing through soldiers like they were nothing. Marian watched as the ogre picked Cailan up and crushed him with a simple squeeze. With their leader dead and all hope lost, Marian grabbed Carver and ran into the wilds. The horde began working its way through the encampment, killing anyone who didn't run.

They spent the next few days in the wilds, trying to make it back to Lothering with a dwindling group of survivors. At Lothering however the grey warden survivors arrived just as tribes of wild folk passed through the village, speaking of the terror of the horde. Malcolm moved through the markets, discreetly helping refugees. None reported him to the templars, some were grateful and others had more pressing concerns. The Hawke patriarch watched the new arrivals with a curious expression. There was something dark about the woman, her clothes were a sign of her coming from the wilds but she had an 'aura' that made Malcolm feel uneasy. He focused instead on the apparent leader of the group, the very same man Marian had been watching at Ostagar.

Malcolm didn't know why he felt like he knew that man, but as he watched him he saw a different kind of man than the kind he was used to seeing. The man convinced a merchant to give items to the refugees at a reduced price. When a Chasind man began chanting of how the end of the village was near, the young man stepped in. Bethany too watched with great interest as the man told the people to leave, to flee to Denerim or Redcliffe, to not give up hope. The men and women agreed to it, but Bethany still wanted to watch the young man and his companions. She watched as he helped people load their possessions onto carriages. He continued helping people outside of the Chantry, giving coin to elves, informing the guards of the elimination of the bandits. As Bethany watched the man she saw many of the qualities her father had, yet with less caution. He just wanted to help as many people as possible, something that was ended when his blonde haired ally grabbed his shoulder.

"Daylen, we need to leave as soon as we can," the man said.

"What about the people here?" the black haired youth asked.

'Daylen,' Bethany thought, deciding to remember the name.

"We have to prioritise reaching the areas the parties in the treaties are," the slightly older knight said.

"Alistair, we can't just leave these people to fend for themselves," Daylen said.

"It seems to me that these people would die just as quickly on their own," the woman commented.

"I don't know if you're being your usual unpleasant self or if you're siding with Daylen Morrigan," Alistair muttered.

"No, its foolish to waste time here, every second that is wasted is another step the horde takes to reaching this village and wiping it from the face of the Earth. The lords made the right choice, the only choice really, survive and leave the weak to die to cover your escape," Morrigan explained.

"So we just leave them to die, another necessary sacrifice for the grey wardens?" Daylen asked.

"You wanted to lead, start taking responsibility," Morrigan said.

Daylen lowered his head as he leant against nearby carriage. He ran his wrist across his eyes and sighed.

"We'll go to Orzammar first, the dwarves have been the first line of defence against the darkspawn for ages. If we gain their armies first we'll have raiding parties capable of raiding arms of the horde, capable of slowing their advance. Lothering may fall, but I'm going to do everything that I can to make sure it's the last place hit by the horde…do you both understand?" Daylen asked, turning to his companions. "These people, they are not the ones we sacrifice, they are the ones we protect, they're the ones we kill for, that we die for!"

"To move as fast as possible, to cut through bandits and Darkspawn we will need more allies," Morrigan said.

"The Qunari, if we take him into our charge then he'll be a valuable fighter," Daylen nodded his head.

"That lay sister offered to help us," Alistair pointed out.

"Alistair…she's an archdemon short of a blight," Daylen said with a deadpan expression.

"I admit she's a little strange, but she's more 'oooh pretty colours', not 'mwahahaha, I'm princess stabity, stab, stab kill, kill,'" the young knight chuckled.

"We do what we can at every turn to delay the scouting parties of the hordes, keep their eyes focused on us and away from the villages," Daylen closed his hand into a fist, as if making some silent vow.

For a moment Bethany thought of offering to help. She felt her cheeks flush as she considered getting closer to the interesting man. A man not crippled by sacrifice, a man who didn't easily turn his back to Lothering as others did. Then she thought of her family, her mother still praying for Marian and Carver to come back to them, her father trying desperately to help the people of the place they called home. Daylen left soon after and Bethany returned to her mother.

"Survivors from Ostagar passed through here mother," she told the worried woman.

"Were Marian and Carver with them?" Leandra immediately asked.

"No, they were grey wardens mother, they helped some of the villagers before moving on. There is still hope mother, they grey wardens can save us," Bethany said.

"I don't care about the grey wardens, I just want all of my children here with me," the woman bought her hands to her eyes but stopped as Malcolm walked into the house.

"Bethany is right Leandra, we can not give up hope, the sight of the grey wardens is but a small symbol that not all is lost. Marian is a survivor and though Carver can be headstrong at times he and Marian will look after one another, our children are stronger than we believe my love," the Hawke patriarch explained, taking his wife's hand.

"I'll gather some herbs and see what I can do for the villagers," Bethany left, wanting to leave her parents alone.

"She seems to want to help more than ever, you'd better make sure she keeps herself safe," Leandra said to her husband.

"I think this is a situation that requires throwing caution to the wind, the templars have better things to do than hunt Apostates. She is strong my love, our little girl is growing up, I think her faith is well placed," Malcolm smiled as he took a seat, leaning his staff against the table.

"What do you mean?" Leandra asked.

"Today I saw a boy who was condemned as a criminal, yet there was no evil in his eyes, I saw hope within him…the boy Leandra, he survived the circle, he has survived the wardens and I believe just as Bethany believes he will continue to survive," Malcolm explained.

Leandra widened her eyes, clutching her mouth as tears of joy threatened to gush from her eyes. After many years of hearing of the passing of her uncle's children, of silence from her brother and dreading an answer her heart wanted she had found it. The boy that was the joy of their family was alive and he still had it in him to do something great, to restore some semblance of glory and honour to the Amell name.

"Revka," she whispered her cousin's name and hugged her husband.

Days passed and the village gradually began to empty. Finally the day Leandra hoped for and dreaded came. Marian and Carver returned home, both near exhausted from a trek through the wilds, bearing a warning of an arm of the horde coming towards Lothering.

"We need to leave immediately," Malcolm said as he grabbed his staff.

"We've been running since Ostagar," Carver said.

"Is that going to be your excuse when the Darkspawn come?" the Hawke patriarch asked.

"We should have left with the grey wardens," Bethany muttered.

"The grey wardens survived? We thought they all perished at Ostagar," Marian said.

Malcolm told his eldest daughter about how some of Loghain's men came in from the capital. They had been speaking of how the wardens had betrayed the king and left him to die on the battlefield. Without even hearing of the incident in the tavern Marian immediately went to the wardens defence. She told her family what really happened at Ostagar, that Loghain was the one who had betrayed the army by refusing to provide reinforcements.

"If the wardens are as capable as you hope Marian then Loghain's betrayal will come to light, our priority must be getting as far away from the Blight as possible," Malcolm explained.

"But there's still a fight here," Carver said.

"A fight we have no certainty of winning, Loghain has the respect of all of Denerim, the wardens are but two and one of them is a mage. The people of the world are not so educated that they forget their fear of magic, it pains me to say it but unless that man does something to earn their love then he will be doomed to fail," Malcolm looked at Bethany with an apologetic gaze, knowing that part of her wanted to join the warden.

That interest seemed to pass to Marian and Carver as well.

"There's no guarantee that we'll be able to catch up with them, but what we can do is go to Denerim, hide out for a while and once a lands meet is called we turn ourselves over to the custody of Eamon," Marian explained.

Carver nodded his head in agreement. Seeing all of his friends die at Ostagar and on the road to Lothering helped him to forge an understanding with his sister.

"But then you would have to fight the Blight again," Leandra said.

"The Blight has to be fought, the wardens cant do it alone," Carver said.

"No, I forbid you to go, you're in over your heads and I don't want you to throw your lives away fighting a hopeless cause," Malcolm said.

"Aren't you the one who told me that there is always hope if you fight hard enough for it? We cannot outrun the Blight for long, this is our choice, we're not children anymore," Marian explained.

"YOU ARE MY CHILDREN!" Malcolm yelled.

Never before had the Hawke siblings heard their father speak with such ferocity in his voice. He had always been calm, making clear when he was angry or disappointed with them without raising his voice. But it was clear to the three of them that their father was speaking out of desperation. Their father had the faintest hint of a tear in his eyes, but he didn't get a chance to speak. The Hawke family felt something land on their roof, and a disturbing clicking sound. Malcolm gripped his staff, freedom's promise tightly. He raised his staff and fired a force blast that ripped through the roof, throwing one of the intruders up into the air.

"SHRIEKS!" Marian yelled.

The rat like Darkspawn poked its head through the hole Malcolm had made and screamed at the mage. Malcolm pulled the creature into the house and slammed his staff into its face so hard that the blow shattered its skull.

"No more debate, we have to go now," the Hawke siblings saw a fire in their father's eyes they hadn't seen before.

Malcolm led his family out of the hut and looked upon Lothering. Darkspawn Hurlocks were setting the houses ablaze, dragging people out of their homes. Bethany and Leandra bought their hands to their mouth in horror as the Darkspawn savagely bit the necks of the men and began to drag the women.

"We have to help them," Carver put his hand to his sword.

"No," Malcolm grabbed his son's hand, "We have to go now, use this chance to escape," he widened his eyes as Marian fired two arrows.

But it wasn't the Darkspawn she was firing at. Her arrows hit the two women the Darkspawn were dragging.

"We could have used them to cover our escape," Malcolm said.

"Why did you do that?" Carver asked.

"Unlike you Carver I listened to the warden's lectures at Ostagar, if the Darkspawn taint or capture me, kill me brother," it was Malcolm's turn to be shocked at the severity of his daughter's voice. "Now lets go," she knocked back and released one arrow after another, bringing down the Darkspawn pursuing them.

Once her family had a good head start Marian began running after them. They fled into the hill areas surrounding Lothering, the rocky plains gave the Hawke's an advantage, they carried no possessions, just enough gold for a boat. Marian stayed close to her mother as the woman began to lose her breath. Malcolm led the family as always, perhaps he was overcome by the shock of everything that was happening. He turned to check his family and widened his eyes. Leandra had stopped from exhaustion and Marian was right beside her, trying to encourage her to keep on going. One Genlock flew through the air, swing his axe towards the woman Malcolm loved and his daughter. Carver however reached his sister and mother first and impaled the little monster with his sword. He then threw the creature into its friends, bringing them to the floor. Bethany threw a fireball onto the pile of Darkspawn, forming a wall between them and the monsters pursuing them.

"We cant stop my love, we need to keep going," Malcolm said.

"Where? We can't just wander aimlessly," Bethany said.

"So long as we wander away from the Darkspawn," Marian muttered.

Leandra raised her head and looked between her children and husband.

"We can go to Kirkwall," she said.

"Kirkwall wouldn't be my first choice, it wouldn't even be my last," Marian said.

"There are a lot of templars in Kirkwall mother," Bethany said.

"Our family has always had influence in Kirkwall, we have an estate there, it's the best place to avoid the Darkspawn," Leandra explained.

"So we're going to run away?" Carver asked.

"Yes, we run and never look back and hope that the wardens are enough, believe me boy nothing but death and sorrow comes from the wardens," Malcolm explained. "Now we are going to Kirkwall and I don't want to hear another complaint about it, we stay safe and alive no matter what," he slammed his staff into the ground, creating a wall of ice spikes that impaled the Darkspawn that broke through the fire.

"Who are you?" Marian suddenly asked.

"I'm your father, I'm the one who has your best interests at heart," Malcolm said.

"Really, because the man who raised me would never have turned his back on those in need, even during a blight, no especially during a blight, this is the different between them and us, our desire to help others over ourselves," Marian explained.

"I know its cruel, but sometimes the greater good is simple survival," the man lowered his head in shame.

"Fine, I'll make sure you and mother get to Gwaren, but then I'm going back to the capital, I'm going to finish this fight," Marian frowned at her father and then walked past him.

She drew her daggers as she heard Darkspawn further ahead on the road. They were attacking a templar and a soldier Marian barely recognised from Ostagar. The soldier was built strongly for a woman. She broke through a Hurlock's guard and slashed it with her sword, a unique weapon made of silverite, beautiful but obviously deadly in the warrior woman's hands. The templar however fought the Darkspawn one at a time, killing one before a Genlock's knife shredded his sword arm. He let out a pained gasp before falling to the floor, with the Genlock ready to finish him off.

"NO!" the woman yelled, tackling the little beast to the floor. "You, will not, have him!" each word she spoke was followed by a brutal punch to the monster's face.

She grabbed her sword and beheaded the creature and then picked the man up, bringing him to his feet. Marian saw the love in the woman's eyes as she picked up the man's shield.

"They will not have you," she said, "not while I breath."

Whether the woman was ready to die with her lover was something Marian did not want to find out. Ignoring the warnings of her father behind her, Marian ran towards the Darkspawn. She jumped and stabbed two Genlocks in their heads. Then she leapt off of their shoulders and slashed a Hurlock across the throat. Marian ducked as another Hurlock swung his sword at her. She kicked a Hurlock behind her and stabbed her blades into the other Hurlock's throat. Yanking the blades back she blocked the final Hurlock's sword, then slashed it once across the face before stabbing both her daggers into its chest.

"Are you both okay?" she asked.

"WATCH OUT!" the woman yelled.

Marian turned around, raising her daggers to block a Hurlock's great axe. Suddenly, a bolt flew into the Hurlock's back, electrocuting it enough to kill the monster. Bethany's hand shook a she lowered her staff. The templar narrowed his eyes at Bethany, even as Carver and Malcolm stepped to her defence.

"Apostate," he said.

"The maker has a sense of humour after all it seems," Bethany said.

"Stop squirming Wesley, you're only going to make it worse," the ginger haired woman supported the templar enough for him to stand on his own.

"That woman is a mage," the knight said.

"She helped us Wesley, and the maker understands," she turned to the Hawke's and sheathed her sword. "I am Aveline Vallen, this is my husband Wesley, we can hate each other after we're away from the Blight," she explained.

"He's a little far to be hunting apostates," Malcolm said.

"I was on business in Denerim for the order, when I heard about what happened at Ostagar," Wesley said, he cringed as his arm twitched.

"Bad luck and a few stupid decisions bought us together," Aveline said.

"My duty is clear but so long as there is a greater need you and I have a common cause," Wesley explained.

"The wrath of the templars is terrible indeed," Marian said, smirking at her father.

He had raised them to be afraid of templars. But looking upon Wesley, who was small and gentle in comparison to the Lothering templars elated Marian and even Bethany's fears. The young man seemed to take to the joke better than other templars too.

"More so their wives," he said, looking at Aveline.

"We need to get going now," Malcolm said.

"Our escape is cut off, the only other road we have available to us is the south," Aveline said.

"The wilds are south and that's no escape," Carver said.

"If its either the Darkspawn or the creatures in the wilds we all know which one would be a better option, especially for us ladies," Marian grinned slightly.

"Lets go then," Malcolm sighed.

Wesley walked with Leandra, though it was a very short walk. With every step they took across the landscape Wesley's condition began to worsen. It started small at first, his skin turned pale and he coughed. It occurred to Marian that the templar had been infected by the taint, the wardens warned them of tainted blades. Aveline however supported her husband, either she had no idea just how sick Wesley was or she was in denial. As they got closer and closer to the wilds, Marian began to hope that they had escaped the horde. Her hopes however were dashed when they came to a hilltop. The ground shook as the group heard what seemed to be footsteps. Marian instinctively bought her hands to her daggers, and then she saw the horns on the horizon. An ogre ran through the group, forcing them to dive to avoid being crushed. The ogre roared, slamming its fists against its chest. It turned to Leandra and Carver, blood dripping from its mouth.

"You soulless bastards," Carver snarled.

He raised his sword, slamming it against the guard on the ogre's hand. The ogre suddenly grabbed Carver and lifted him off of the ground. Marian began to flashback to Cailan's death; to Carver's credit he was much braver than the king. Suddenly, a fireball slammed into the ogre's face. Malcolm raised his staff, firing another fire spell into the ogre's head. The ogre stepped back, dropping Carver as Malcolm hit him with a spirit bolt. Carver picked up his sword and returned to his mother's side, keeping him safe.

"Don't just sit on your arses," Malcolm snarled at his children and Aveline. "Fight, fight for to survive, FIGHT!" he yelled, slamming his staff into the ground.

The darkspawn around him were thrown off of their feet. Marian stood and drew her daggers. She slashed two Hurlocks and then stabbed another in the eye. Aveline deflected a sword and stabbed her opponent in the face. She swung around, slashing two Hurlocks in one fluid swing of her sword. Carver hacked aside any darkspawn that approached him or his mother. He pulled on her arm and thrust his sword into the Genlock that snuck behind her. Bethany froze a Hurlock on the spot and shattered it with her staff. She looked to her father and watched in amazement as he drove the ogre back with fire. He moved the fire in his hand and threw it towards the giant, burning its face. Malcolm Hawke gathered light into his hands and began chanting the spell that would summon a firestorm.

"LOOK OUT FATHER!" Marian yelled.

Malcolm stopped his chanting, only for a bolt from a crossbow to pierce through his neck. He gripped the bolt and looked towards the Hurlocks rushing towards him. The mage raised his staff, only for two spears to slam into his back. A second Hurlock then rammed his sword through Malcolm's gut. Leandra screamed as Carver held her firmly. Malcolm's eyes let out a red glow as he dropped his staff. A force of magic blew the Darkspawn back, including their weapons. He then formed with his own blood a spear that he launched into the leg of a ogre. Marian didn't need an order to know what she needed to do. She ran forward, slashing two hurlocks in her way. The ogre swung its fist at the rogue, only for Marian to jump onto its arm. She then jumped onto the spear and used it to launch herself at the ogre's head.

"By the maker," Wesley gasped.

The eldest of the Hawke siblings stabbed her daggers into the ogre's neck and face again and again. She then stabbed her right dagger into the monster's bell before slicing open his chest. Marian let out a yell as she stabbed her blade through the ogre's twisted heart. She jumped, flipping away from the ogre as it fell.

"Malcolm," Leandra gasped, running to her husband's side.

"Leandra, my love I'm sorry, is Carver all right?" he asked.

"I'm here father," Carver said.

"Maker no," Bethany dropped her staff and went to Malcolm's side.

"No please, not you please," Marian let some of her tears fall as she walked towards her father.

Malcolm gripped the back of Leandra's head and pulled her into a kiss.

"Meeting you was the single greatest moment of my life," Malcolm said.

"Malcolm no," Leandra hugged her husband tightly.

"Don't tell them who the warden is my love," he whispered into her ear.

Both he and Leandra knew that if the siblings found out that it was their cousin leading the charge against the darkspawn then them following him would be a certainty. She nodded her head and dried her eyes.

"I dragged you away from a life of wealth, at least today I actually got to be your hero," he muttered weakly.

"I never wanted a hero, or wealth, I just wanted you," Leandra said.

"My children, you must get to Kirkwall, no matter what you have to do you must get to Kirkwall. Please, this is my last request, survive and pray that the warden will be enough. Marian come closer please, there's something you have to know," Malcolm let out short and weak breaths as Marian came to his side. "You were right, I'm not really the man you thought I was, please get to the free marches Marian…make a new home for our family, and put right a mistake I made long ago," Malcolm reached into his coat and pulled out a small golden statuette of a griffin.

Marian had never seen it before and looked at the statuette curiously. Malcolm raised his hand and traced his thumb across the bridge of Marian's nose, leaving a mark of blood.

"I believe you will all make me proud," his hand fell to the ground.

Carver fell to his knees, slamming his fists against the dirt. Marian fought off the urge to cry as Leandra touched her dead husband's cheeks. Bethany was still standing and was letting her tears out. Aveline bowed her head in respect as Wesley prayed.

"Our lives mean more to him than our prayers," Marian said as she stood up. "I'm sorry mother but we need to go," she softly held Leandra's shoulders and lifted her off of the floor.

"Flames, we're too late," Aveline growled as she drew her sword.

More and more darkspawn began to flood onto the hilltop. Marian grit her teeth together, she was ready to fight but not to die before keeping the promise she made to her father.

"COME ON YOU BASTARDS!" Carver yelled.

The snarling and roaring darkspawn prepared to charge. Suddenly, the ground itself shook as a roar echoed through the sky.

"LOOK!" Bethany yelled, pointing to the south.

A dragon swooped over the Darkspawn, spraying a cloud of fire onto the creatures. Marian looked at the dragon in shock. It had two curved horns on its head and was a red colour. The dragon swooped by again, grabbing a load of darkspawn in its mouth. Flying high into the air the dragon let the darkspawn go, leaving them to fall as it dived back into the flames, squishing hurlocks with its tail and crushing them with talons. The dragon raised its head, looking at Marian and her group. Marian stood her ground and she was shocked a second time as the dragon's scales began to glow. It left behind a silhouette, like the spirit of a great dragon as it shrunk. When the faded image of the dragon disappeared a new, human like figure walked through the flames, dragging a burning darkspawn behind her. She was dressed in armour made from primitive and ugly materials, clawed gauntlets covered her hands, metal boots ran from her thighs to her feet, partially covered by a red robe. Her hair was white but it was not merely a reflection of her age, and she appeared to be generations older than Leandra. Marian couldn't tell if the woman was wearing a helmet that mimicked the dragon's horns, of if she truly possessed horns. Marian put on a brave and defiant face, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. The witch, whatever she was shaped her lips into a grin and spoke in an amused tone.

"Well, well…what have we here?"

Next Chapter 3: The hero of Ferelden

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Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time Marian finishes recounting the tale of how she met Flemeth and listens to Varric's depiction of the battle of Denerim and the day her cousin became a hero.


	4. Chapter 3: the Hero of Ferelden

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age

The introduction of Flemeth, the recounting of the battle of Denerim and Hawke's service to the Red Iron mercenary. In the flashback to Denerim Daylen is wearing armour similar to the kind worn by the character on the front cover of Dragon Age Origins and in the sacred ashes trailer, Leliana is also wearing her armour from that same trailer.

Hope everyone enjoys the chapter

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Rise of the Hawkes: Reunion

Chapter 3: The hero of Ferelden

"I'm telling you Varric, something was off about that woman, but there wasn't a lot I could do in that situation. If I tried anything my family and I never would have gotten to Kirkwall, I wouldn't be helping your brother."

Varric Tethras considered himself to be a good storyteller. There was a certain power in stories that couldn't be denied. That's all that history was, a story passed down from one person to another and if told the right way could be forged into a tale, a legend that all men and women in Thedas know of. The dwarf sat in his usual place, the only place in Kirkwall someone could get a drink other than the brothel. The hanged man had been part of Lowtown since the city was freed from the Imperium. Kirkwall had three major sections, Hightown where the nobility ruled the city with the Chantry and the Viscount's grand keep, Lowtown, the system of concrete buildings around the cargo port and warehouses where the peasants lived and Darktown, what could best be described as the sewers where the lowest class of Kirkwall's citizens lived. When the refugees poured in from Ferelden many had spent most of their coin just to get through the gates. Those who couldn't pay were sent back to Ferelden, many out of hopeless desperation gave all they had to get into the city. The only place they could stay was Darktown. Once word came back that the Darkspawn had been defeated many Fereldan's felt that they had made the wrong choice in going to Kirkwall.

"There was no other choice really," Varric's favourite business and drinking partner continued her tale of how she came to the city of chains.

Marian would never forget the face of the shape shifter. She wondered if it was her true face, or whether it was yet another disguise she used.

"It used to be that we never got visitors in the wild, now they arrive in droves," she said.

"Neat trick, turning into a dragon," of course Marian hid her fear with bravado.

"Perhaps I am a dragon, be thankful that the stench of smoking darkspawn does little for the appetite," the witch said. "If you are looking to flee the darkspawn then you should know you are going the wrong way, only the south can offer safe passage."

"The wilds are to the south," Carver said.

"We don't have enough food for camping in the wilds," Bethany noted.

"Wesley wont make it that far either," Aveline said.

"If you must, leave me behind."

"No, I swore that I would drag you out of here if need be and I will."

Varric watched as Marian tilted the contents of her cup down her throat.

"Looking at Aveline and her husband, I could tell he wasn't going to make it, he had the taint, the darkspawn corruption. That witch looked at them to and then at me and I think she knew too, I think she knew that I knew," she explained.

"She knew you knew she knew," the dwarf said in good humour.

But much to Varric's shock Marian's face was devoid of humour. Ever since she arrived in Kirkwall, Marian had formed a reputation for her quick wit and skill with the bow. Her quick wit had gotten her out of sticky situations without having to knock an arrow and made her a few friends in Dark and Low town. But when she was serious, when nothing amused her, when she had cleared her mind of all sympathy and guilt her arrows could fly truer than even the finest marksmen of the city guard. Her reputation and the very life of her family was under threat because of her aim, though some would probably debate it as her sense of honour as well.

'Lets settle one story first,' Varric thought as he focused on Hawke.

Many called her Hawke as opposed to Marian. She was the leader of the trio she and her siblings formed, the Hawkes. Marian's journey to Kirkwall had not gone easy. The witch whom had rescued her family lingered over them. Marian tried to dismiss her by saying they could get to Gwaren on their own, it was both an attempt to lure her away and draw her in. She knew the shape shifter was bad news but she also knew that her curiosity hadn't been sated by the sight of someone killing an ogre as she claimed.

"I can get you to Gwaren," the witch said.

"What's the catch?" Marian asked.

"There is always a catch, life is a catch, I suggest you catch it while you can."

"I don't know about this Marian," Bethany whispered to her sister.

"We don't even know what she is," Carver muttered.

"I know what she is, or rather who, Flemeth, witch of the wilds," Aveline said.

"That is what some call me, others Asha'Bellanar, or an old hag who talks too much," that last part made the witch smile.

Marian had scared her siblings with tales of Flemeth. How Flemeth was lurking within the wilds, waiting to drag exploring children away to boil in a pot. Even when Carver got older Marian would annoy him with stories about attractive wild women, daughters of Flemeth waiting to tire young virgins out with sex, for their mother to use in torturous rituals before eating them. Looking upon Flemeth face to face, mere feet from being able to touch, Marian began understanding the measure of truth many legends had.

"That'll be what I remember you as if you cant deliver on your claims," Marian said defiantly.

Flemeth rolled her head back and laughed. It was a laugh of genuine amusement but it disturbed Marian's family.

"You I like, so much like another I've recently met," Flemeth hummed, looking at Marian curiously. "I wonder," she muttered as she stroked her chin.

She produced from her robe an amulet, the markings of which Marian ignorantly guessed to be elvhan. Flemeth walked towards Marian and placed the amulet in her hand.

"I will take you as far as Gwaren, but you must stay in Kirkwall for a year at least, before you decide to leave or pursue your own interests in the city you must go to the bottom of Sundermount, to a dalish camp and give this amulet to their keeper Marethari. Do whatever she commands you to do with the trinket and any debt between us will be paid in full, give me your answer quickly girl, I have a schedule to keep," Flemeth smiled darkly as Marian looked at the amulet.

Marian looked at the members of her family. They all looked to her for an answer. The situation was so glum that they had stopped debating; the choice was hers as was the consequences. She sighed as she pocketed the amulet and looked at Flemeth.

"I'd have to get to Kirkwall first," she said.

"And get there you shall, but first there is another issue," Flemeth said as she turned to Aveline and Wesley.

"No, you leave him alone," Aveline said.

She grabbed her sword, not even hesitating as the flicker of sympathy crossed the witch's face.

"What has been done to your man is within his blood already," she said.

"No, you lie!"

"Aveline," Wesley called out to his wife, trying to grab her hand.

Aveline turned and both Flemeth and Marian walked up beside her.

"Its too late, I can feel the corruption inside of me," Wesley said.

"The darkspawn taint," Marian said.

"The only way to cure it that I know of is to become a grey warden," Flemeth said.

"And they all died at Ostagar," Carver sighed.

"No, two survivors passed through Lothering," Bethany said.

"But they are still beyond your reach," Flemeth said.

Aveline knelt by her husband, touching the sides of his face. Wesley looked at the taller woman with the love and affection he had been putting into their marriage for years. Marian saw the hurt expression across Aveline's face. On their first meeting Marian saw the ginger haired woman as a strong warrior, fitting for her name. But looking at her with her dying husband she saw the kind of woman she truly was. A woman whom had found love and happiness with a single man, but was going to lose that love.

"Please Aveline, the taint is a painful death I cant…" Wesley coughed out spots of blood, looking at Aveline for mercy.

'Should I do it for her?' Marian wondered, but then lowered her head.

She had no right to kill Aveline's husband. Marian placed her hand on Aveline's shoulder.

"None but you can decide his fate Aveline," she said.

Aveline nodded her head and grabbed Wesley's hand. He withdrew a dagger from his belt and placed it on his chest, near his heart. The woman adjusted the position of the blade, so it would better slide through his armour. She touched his cheek affectionately and placed her hand on the pommel of the dagger.

"Be strong my love," Wesley said.

To her credit Aveline didn't close her eyes, even as Wesley yelled out in pain. When his head fell she closer his eyes and kissed his forehead. Marian turned away from Aveline, trying not to give sympathy when she knew Aveline wouldn't appreciate it. Flemeth walked up behind Aveline, as if approving of what she had done. The witch seemed to have sympathy for the woman, perhaps indicating that there was something to the stories told of Flemeth's love when she was human. No words were really spoken, in fact Marian couldn't recall any conversation she had with Aveline, her family or even Flemeth as the shape shifter took them to the woods near Gwaren. Once there they put their coin together to pay for a ship to Kirkwall, there was nothing left for Aveline in Ferelden.

"I don't know what really bought me here, I wasn't scared of the Blight, and as much as an ass as Carver seems I know he can protect mother and Bethany. It was only really mother who wanted to go, though don't tell her that…in fact Varric don't talk to my mother ever," Marian said to the dwarf.

"I'm quite sure your mother would enjoy my company Hawke," Varric said.

"Not if you tell those embellished stories about my time in the Red Iron," Hawke growled.

"Ah, how you epically fired an arrow into Meeran's hand when he threatened Bethany," the dwarf grinned before drinking.

"It wasn't epic it was a stupid decision, I had just rejected his order to kill Lord Harimann, I saw him talking with Bethany and I assumed he was threatening her," Hawke explained.

"How did you end up working for the Red Iron anyway?" Varric asked.

Marian took another shot before delving into what happened after the two-week sail to Kirkwall had ended. Upon reaching Kirkwall the Hawke family plus Aveline found hordes of Fereldans begging to enter the city. Marian managed to speak with the guard captain and dropped her uncle Gamlen's name. Her grandparents inconveniently died when Carver and Bethany had been born, leaving only Leandra's younger brother Gamlen to claim the estate. Even though Gamlen never wrote to them they all assumed he was still a noble living in high town.

"HA! Gamlen a noble, I tell you he looks like he was born to live in low town," Varric chuckled.

Hawke shot the dwarf a look to silence his amusement. She continued on, not needing to tell him of her uncle's reputation as a weasel and a cheat. He still loved the family enough to give the family a way into Kirkwall and a place to stay. Gamlen had incurred a debt with the local mercenary group, the Red Iron. They were generally tolerated as they tended to stay out of politics, even aiding the high town nobility at times. Their leader Meeran was a vulgar man, Gamlen had said he was the typical sell sword but fair to a degree and when he heard about the talents of the siblings (especially Bethany) he was eager to recruit them as indentured servants. Part of their servitude involved working off the debt for a year.

"We did well enough, but as we got closer and closer to the end of the year, Meeran's ambitions got more and more dangerous, you know that murderer whom had escaped from the city guard?" Marian asked.

"Yeah, he killed elf children, a sick bastard too," Varric shuddered, though he had seen and done his fair share of bloody things there were certain perversions that disgusted him.

"He had been chased down to a cave, a cave known for giant spiders. The magistrate wanted him bought in alive but the guard captain at the time Ewald wasn't willing to risk his men to chase after someone who should have been executed years ago. Meeran got Carver, Bethany, myself and a few others to go after the murderer, when we got there Aveline offered to help but not before an elf merchant showed up, 'he took my daughter into those caves and killed her,' he looked so certain, so angry but also desperate. Elves can earn gold and gain reputation but in most cases they are always only ever seen as second-class citizens, it's a problem across all of Thedas. The other guards kept on reminding us of Magistrate Vanard's orders, I went on through without really knowing what I was going to do. Once we finished with the spiders and traps we found the elf's daughter, she was a little bruised but otherwise unharmed…I suppose she was delusional in a way."

"How so?" Varric asked.

Marian lowered her head to her drink as she spoke.

"She told us not to hurt him, that it wasn't his fault, demon's made him do it. Bethany was a little scared, Carver was sceptical and I kept as open a mind as I could, as did Aveline. I sent Bethany back with the girl and we advanced onwards, spiders and Undead came down from the ceiling or up from the ground respectively and attacked us, killing Meeran's men and leaving only myself, Carver and Aveline. We found the murderer, Kelder, sitting by a pillar, he had this contemplative look in his eyes and I could tell he had been crying. I did what my father taught me to do, listen to his story," Hawke sighed and leant back on her chair, playing with the bangs of her hair.

"Was it a good one?" the dwarf asked as he drank.

"He said that demons speak in his head, whispering commands, demanding that he take the lives of pure and beautiful elf girls. Kelder said that his father had taken him the circle, that the circle lied about him being possessed by demons…it was utter bullshit of course, the circle for all its faults wouldn't have lied about something so serious, he was no mage, just a sad and sick minded man protected by his father," Hawke continued, slamming her cup into the table after she had finished her drink.

"The Magistrate," Varric guessed whom Kelder's father was immediately.

"Exactly, the bastard used his power to protect that murderer, to keep him from hanging, some might say there is something to be admired about his actions, not me however, I hated him for it and when Kelder asked me, no begged me to kill him I obliged. I stabbed him the chest first and then sliced open his throat for good measure, I stayed until his body stopped twitching, then I threw the body into a spider's web and watched the monsters eat what was left," Hawke explained.

"That must have disconcerted Carver and Aveline."

"Aveline more so than Carver, do you want to know the funny thing Varric, it disturbed me too, I emptied my stomach and after I told everyone outside that I witnessed Kelder being ripped apart by monsters I actually felt sick again, but it was different, not so much guilt over him dying but over how I did it, I had so much malice and hatred in my eyes…its only now that I actually feel sorry for him, so sad, what happened in his life to make him that way, the Chantry says we should fear the demons of the fade but what about the demons of our own making?"

"That's pretty much what I've been thinking ever since I was old enough to witness death, what happened next?" Varric asked.

"We reported to the Magistrate that his son was dead, I was so angry at the time that I actually revealed everything that I knew, right to his face," Marian said.

"For a lady you've got balls Hawke, no wonder Meeran's been here talking about how he'll get even with that 'self righteous bitch and her fucking dumb shit brother and cunt sister'," Varric tried keeping a straight face but ended up smirking.

"He always has had a way with words, I think that's what my brother liked about him, first man we killed for him he said 'good job, let the crows eat him up and shit him into the ocean'," Marian laughed.

"And here we are, your debt paid, a few enemies made, a reputation formed…Hawke, champion of the needy," Varric raised his cup and smirked.

"Very funny Varric, that reputation didn't help me when I went to your brother, that was a waste of time," Hawke sighed.

"Ah don't give up just yet, the deeproads after a blight, so little darkspawn and so much undiscovered treasure to discover, what woman and her family in need of coin and status can resist such an opportunity?" Varric asked with a glint of suggestion in his eyes.

"What are you suggesting that I make my own expedition? That would piss your brother off."

"As much as I would like to see Bartrand's face when that happens I'm afraid I couldn't condone you going off on your own. You've got experience with darkspawn, you have a decent enough reputation and you have a serious investment in the success of an expedition. My brother and I don't need more hirelings, we need a partner, someone to invest in the expedition with us and secure certain items that will insure not just our own survival in the deeproads, but our success is finding something of value," Varric explained.

"You're suggesting me?" Marian asked and Varric nodded. "I wouldn't be asking Bartrand for a job if I didn't need the coin," she said.

"There are opportunities everywhere to make coin, you just need to know where to look and lucky for you I know where to look. I've got contacts throughout the city, hell I've got contacts outside of the city as far as Ferelden," the dwarf chuckled.

"Did you ever hear anything about the blight? Anything specific like the activities of the grey warden?" Marian asked.

Varric leant back in his chair and bought his fingers together.

"I had a few contacts in the Orzammar military and in Denerim, they saw things," Varric said as he reached behind his chair and withdrew a book.

He slid the book across the table to Marian's hands. She flipped open a few pages before coming across a drawing.

"The art was done by a young man in Redcliffe who had a talent for art and song, although the unrated version really captured the assets of the warden's female companions," Varric grinned.

"I've really got no interest in pictures," Hawke said.

"Not even to know what your cousin looked like?" the dwarf asked.

Hawke raised her eyebrows in confusion before she realised that it wasn't all that strange that Varric would know of her connection to the hero of Ferelden. A month after news of the darkspawn defeat Leandra told her children about their family. The Amells had always had magic in their blood, Aristide's intention had been to marry off Leandra to a line that had very little magic in it, his belief was that the joining of the Amell and DeLauncets would dilute the magic just enough to leave an age of magic out of the Amell family. Fausten of course disagreed and Leandra often told her children of her uncle's theory that magic would always be a part of the Amell family. This was especially apparent in the eldest son of her cousin Revka.

"A dark haired man with silver streaks and red eyes, the latter a result of consorting with demons at the age of three, or was he four?" Varric asked.

"My mother was with me when she left Kirkwall, which was round about the same time Daylen was sent to the Ferelden circle. Bethany was shocked to learn that the hero was one of ours, she once told me that she could have been the hero of Ferelden," Marian explained.

Marian kept the detail to herself but she knew that Bethany's interest in Daylen had been more than just the admiration of a warden. She knew that that interesting man she saw briefly at Ostagar, and whom had passed through Lothering had been her sister's first great attraction.

"This doesn't have any of your usual embellishments in it does it?" she asked as she turned the pages of the book.

"I was using that as a guideline for my version of the warden's tale, mine involves an encounter with a Rivaini captain in a bar, a red haired Orlesian and an Antivan elf all pining over our young protagonist, but then they decide to share…"

"Please don't put that image in my head," Marian shivered.

"You have no sense for entertainment Hawke, your second cousin is the desire of most women in Thedas, save for templars…scratch that, certain templars probably have dreams about it. Anyway I borrowed that book off of a friend in Denerim, someone your cousin actually saved, he had spoken with elves in the alienage and the surviving guards at the gates and put this book together alongside the artist. Keep it if you'd like Hawke, consider it a gift to signify our partnership," Varric grinned.

Hawke raised her eyebrows, causing the dwarf to hastily raise his hands.

"Not that kind of partnership," he said.

"Always up to something aren't you Varric?" Hawke asked.

"Its part of the job of a professional younger brother, I need to think ahead of my brother, I need to keep things moving while he takes credit for both the good and the bad. Making coin is easy enough if you know who to approach Hawke, I know who to approach and don't forget you've got some friends yourself…so what do you say Hawke, partners?" Varric extended his hand, smiling at the elder Hawke.

Marian grinned as she took the dwarf's hand. They shook hands and at the same time finished their drinks. If there was anyone in Kirkwall Marian trusted not to stab her in the back it was Varric Tethras. The dwarf storyteller was popular but also respectable. As a surface dwarf from birth he wasn't trapped by the usual dwarven superstitions and traditions. His faith was a mix between that of the common dwarven tradition of worshipping your ancestors and the human (and some elves) belief in the chant of light, though he wasn't a devote follower. But above his faith was his morality, he wouldn't betray a partner and he'd stand by his friends and even respect his rivals enough to not attack them.

"Tell me, if there was one word all of your contacts and friends used to describe cousin Daylen what was it?" Hawke asked.

Varric put a hand to his chin, thinking about what his contacts in Ferelden all said concerning the hero.

"Hope, that's what they describe him as, the hope that brings light when all seems lost," he said.

"Why Varric, you ought to try your hand at writing a serious story and not your 'friend fictions', you'd never know, you writing a legend would be…awesome," Marian grinned.

"That's given me an idea Hawke, go and tell your family the good news," Varric said.

Marian nodded her head before placing the book in her satchel. Walking out into the streets of Lowtown Marian felt the eyes of men and some women on her. Some possibly looked for the obvious reason, her reputation as a do gooder, others because of her looks and some because they intimidated by her. Her daggers were strapped to the back of her green-layered tunic, the only thing other than coin she kept from her days in the mercenary company. She walked into neighbourhood Gamlen's home was located in. The hovels were built sturdy, but they were not the cleanest places in all of Kirkwall. It was still a home though and Marian would not wish for any place that didn't have her family, even uncle Gamlen in it. She stepped into the house and smiled at the sight that befell her. Bethany was helping mother prepare dinner and Gamlen was preparing the table. Stew and wooden cups was the best they could do, but at least they had each other. Marian hugged her mother before going to the room she and her siblings shared. Carver was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless and swinging a wooden club like a blade.

"Always practicing I see, maybe if you looked for a job you could put some of that skill to use," Marian said.

"I don't need employment advice from someone who has to resort to working with a slippery bastard like Bartrand," Carver retorted.

"How is your search for another job going?" Marian grinned as her brother shot a glare at her.

"I'm not saying I need to rely on you, but I could use a little help, this expedition is for all of us right, so we should all have a chance to profit from it," he explained.

"We wont be profiting from anything in a while Carver, its time we started saving our coin up, investing in the deep roads expedition," Marian explained.

"What did you do Marian?" Bethany asked as she dumped a pile of carrots into the stew pot.

"I'm a partner in the first expedition of Kirkwall into the deep roads. Tomorrow Varric and I will be discussing ways to raise money for the expedition and possible guards we could recruit, because the muscle Bartrand has been thinking about wont cut it in the deep roads," Marian continued despite Carver's disapproving look.

"You're serious, a partner, and how much exactly are we supposed to raise for this expedition?" the young man asked.

"Fifty sovereigns and before you say anything think about it, the deep roads are practically another world, a world filled with treasure waiting to be discovered," Marian said.

"They're also dangerous," Leandra said.

"Our family has practically thrived on danger mother," Marian grinned.

"No, do not use your cousin's success as an excuse to seek out danger, its fool hardy and disrespectful," the former Amell heir preached to her children.

Marian lowered her head slightly, even Carver felt sorry. Though he didn't show it, Carver had respect for his cousin as well; he just didn't want to come off as a worshipper as his twin often did.

"It would be disrespect not to put our best effort forward mother, I saw cousin at Lothering mother, he had every reason to play it safe and just leave Lothering but he stayed just long enough to help the refugees willing to run escape, he helped everyone at the chantry and even gave away his own herbs and equipment to people who needed it," Bethany explained.

"And he still succeeded in saving Denerim, or at least a very large portion of it," Marian said. "All whilst wielding an elf blade, a warden shield and plate armour," she grinned as her siblings looked at her in confusion. "Read it in a book," she showed them the said book and smiled as Bethany's eyes lit up.

Bethany had been collecting many post blight books, her collection included 'The Far Cliffs of Kirkwall', 'Lothering's Lament' and 'Of Things not Lost', she had been saving coin to buy Genitivi's published diary of his experience searching for the earn of sacred ashes. She took the book from her sister and opened it to the artists depiction of Daylen, the black image showed a young man standing atop a hill, dressed in plate armour with the only colour being the blood on his shoulder pad and chest and the blood across his face. The armour Daylen had worn was very close to what true grey warden's wore, save for the fact that it didn't include the blue and white tunic underneath it. It was lighter than the full plate armour Loghain wore. Daylen had been drawn with a broad sword, but according to many accounts the warden had carried a shorter, curved sword of elvhan design, a sword named spell weaver.

"The battle of Denerim, the moment our cousin's name would be remembered throughout Thedas," Bethany said.

"Don't over dramatise, Kirkwall didn't give a shit about the blight, it ended so quickly that people thought it was a hoax," Gamlen huffed.

It wasn't a case of Gamlen not feeling proud of what his cousin's son had achieved, rather it was the anger he felt every time he went into the hanged man. There were some people in Kirkwall whom didn't know the name of the hero of Ferelden, or what family he originated from. Many just didn't care to know, some believed that there in fact had never been a blight, others believed that the warden, whatever his name was had simply been a mage redeeming himself for the sin of magic creating the darkspawn (if the chantry's account of their origins was to be believed).

"Ha, those ignorant pigs and pompous nobles cant all say that they have relative who was genuine hero," Carver said.

"Read it Marian," Bethany offered her the book back.

"No Bethany you should read it," Marian said.

Bethany looked at the book and smiled before opening it. She felt that in a way she could not only hear of her cousin's exploits but speak of them to others. One exploit in particular would be told from the words of men and women whom had watched him fight that dark but glorious day at Denerim. The tale rolled smoothly off of Bethany's tongue as she recounted the battle that signalled the end of the fifth blight.

* * *

What had once been a grand city had become a funeral pyre, a pyre for the old kingdom. If there was one thing that died first that day it was our hope. Before they arrived we could only imagine the terror the army at Ostagar must have felt, seeing the monsters marching from the woods. They had come from the direction of Redcliffe, in formation like an organised army and but there was no general leading from the front or the back ranks. The general of the darkspawn flew down from the skies, swooping through the streets of Denerim, setting houses ablaze with his breath. Though there was a garrison of royal troops, these were men that hadn't seen combat in years, men whom expected to never have to fight for the gates of Denerim were strong. But not even stern iron could hold against a family of ogres. They smashed through the gates and stomped through the initial defenders. Then the spawn flooded into the city, overwhelming the home troops. There was only one way in or out of Denerim and the darkspawn took complete control within the first wave and like predators they scattered, looking for prey, smashing down doors, dragging peasants and nobles alike out onto the streets. But they did not immediately execute or butcher the people where they stood. It was as if they were waiting for their victims to give up their hope completely. Hope is a tenacious feeling though, it can be taken away easily and it takes much to bring it back.

Hope for us came from the cry of the guard on the wall. Defending himself from darkspawn archers he looked upon the direction of Redcliffe and before succumbing to an arrow bellowed one final call of hope to the surviving soldiers.

"THE WARDENS!" he yelled.

His yell echoed through our ears as a grand mass stampeded towards the city. Men at the gates, helpless under the blades of the darkspawn had a final moment of comfort, the sight of the grand army the warden had gathered running towards the gate was enough to bring smiles to some men before they died. The darkspawn however must have felt fear, they must have for what entered the city would have been enough to scare any creature of the old ways. It was once said that the only unity seen of the people of Thedas was that of the darkspawn, creatures born from women of many races united under a single dark goal. But one man had bought together an army the likes of which had not been seen in Thedas for an age. An army of men, knights from across the lands of Ferelden, of dwarves united under the banner of a new king in Orzammar, Dalish elves, clad in light armour and arrows flying from their bows and mages freed from the circle for one service to the land and the maker.

At the front of this grand army could be seen one man and his many followers. If you were lucky enough you would catch sight of his blade, slicing through darkspawn like lightning, surrounded by flame and the light of the wielders own spirit. His spirit was so strong that it seemed to enhance the weapons of all those whom followed him. Like a mage he empowered those behind him and like a warrior he crashed through dawkspawn, smashing their faces with the shield and cleaving through them with the sword. He and the hero of River Dane Loghain Mac Tir moved like one, defending against attacks and cutting down one darkspawn after another. Their troops cut and smashed darkspawn to the ground, nailed them with arrows or burnt them with magic. The warden hero threw his shield and it span, turning into a disc shaped blade that sliced through the head of an ogre. When the ogre fell a cheer erupted from the army and the hero raised his sword.

"MOVE THROUGH THE STREETS! DRIVE THEM TO FORT DRAKON!" he roared as his armour shined and his body took on a ghostly appearance as if nothing in the world could harm him.

With a swing of his sword the army moved, smashing into the darkspawn line. Following the orders of the man whom bought them together, Daylen Amell. Balls of fire flew across the streets, lightning rushed through the darkspawn. The mages of the circle empowered the weapons of the warriors with all manner of elements; even arrows were enchanted by fire and ice. They were natural crowd dispersers but also healers, for every four men wounded on the field one mage would be all it took to heal them just enough for them to continue fighting. There was no greater healer than Wynne, whom seemed to generate healing magic, around her the men seemed to be able to take even the most vicious of cuts and still fight on. Whilst Wynne bought them peace, a red headed dwarf made a bloody mess of the field. Though small, Oghren was like a boulder rolling down hill, beheading one darkspawn and cutting through their flesh one at a time. Loghain too fought well alongside an Orlesian woman of all people. She was bound in armour worn over a black tunic, stabbing Darkspawn with twin daggers as Loghain split heads open with the sword of his friend and our old king Maric. Daylen moved like lightning, his sword passing through his enemies as easily as his ghostly form. Soldiers would later bellow tales in the bars of how the warden blocked a hurlock's axe with his gauntlet, showing that though the ghostly form of an arcane warrior was not invulnerable he would not fear the enemy blades. He didn't really need the protection of a shield, not only did he move faster with just a single sword, but he had protection in the form of two friends and a very faithful Mabari. One was an elf and the other of all things was a Qunari. As if representing both the strength and culture of his people the Qunari giant painted his face white and red and smashed through the monsters with a ferocity and strength that outmatched them. His war hammer broke apart armour and bone alike. The elf had a more subtle form of fighting, stabbing through the gaps in armour with a knife and slashing throats with an axe, the blonde haired elf was still as devoted to Daylen's protection as the Mabari that pounced on any darkspawn that approached his master. Daylen sliced the legs off of a genlock and then stabbed its head with his sword.

That's when the moment came, the moment when Daylen sent orders to his troops, splitting them into groups, groups compromised of members of all three armies equally moving through Denerim towards fort Drakon, whilst another, bolstered by Daylen's own companions would protect the gate. He removed his helmet, revealing a young man's face, but his eyes, one would say they were corrupted by magic and others would say that it was war. War had aged those eyes, forcing more strength and sorrow into them. Blood dripped from his hair; it had stained his face but not his soul. There was a certainty in his eyes that slowly grew as he bid farewell to each of his companions, even the companions whom would join him in his march through Denerim. Only those whom spoke know what was said, only those whom spoke knew it was a goodbye.

His goal was set, not for Drakon but another place that needed him. The alienage was barely holding, the gates were mere wood, incapable of standing up to the fists of an ogre. Fear gripped the elves that day, even the courageous leader awakened that day. Shianni determination was only matched by her dedication to her people. Hope was relit by Daylen's survival, Shianni begged for help but she didn't have to.

"Converge at the gate," he told the knights, "Assist the wounded, get the children and those incapable of fighting towards the back of the hospice, it's a defendable position. I need you to fight with me," he gave orders like a born leader and Shianni looked at the man in confusion.

It had not been the first time he had helped them without want of reward.

"Whatever this place represents to your people and mine, know that it is your home, your home…fight for it, stay by your houses, and shoot down anything that breaks through our lines," the passion and courage in the mages voice was enough persuade Shianni.

Those capable of fighting took up the bow, or the spear and they set themselves down like rocks, ready to defend their homes or die trying. Daylen however took up position with the troops and readied themselves at the gates. He sheathed his sword and took up his staff and stepped up towards the marksman's platform beside the gate. Many recounted how the hero tilted a vial down his throat, a lyrium potion. As soon as the glass shattered against the floor mana surrounded the warden. He crossed his arms together, gripping his staff and shaping the magic to fit his choice of attack and with a thrust of his arm he sent the magic into the air, just as the darkspawn began their approach towards the gate. A blizzard hit the darkspawn wave, freezing some in place, once the blizzard passed the elves let loose a volley of arrows. The ogre shrugged off the arrows and dived through the gate, squashing several soldiers beneath him. Panic nearly consumed the soldiers, but Daylen rushed towards the darkspawn and that simple act of bravery pushed the troops harder than any order could.

"HELP THE WARDEN!" Loghain's order spoke of his faith in the hero.

He rushed in front of Daylen, snapping the darkspawn spears with his shield and with a single swing he slashed the throats of the three Hurlock vanguards. Loghain then grabbed Daylen's shoulder and pushed him to the ground.

"FIRE!" the former lord yelled.

The arrows flew over the two wardens heads, striking the darkspawn in front of them. Daylen rose and looked back at the alienage. Shianni moved through the crowds and looked to the warden. Any other commander would have left the alienage to fend for itself. But because of Daylen not only were Shianni's people safe but also protected. Battle changes a person; some are changed for the worst, others for the best. There was no hatred between any person on the battlefield, they were united through shared grief and shared purpose, to protect their way of life. Shianni looked at the warden and smiled, whispering a thank you. She would not forget his kindness.

"We must move towards Drakon, Riordan said that he would drive the archdemon to the fort," Daylen said.

Wynn, Leliana and Loghain followed him with the army falling slightly behind. They ran across the bridge just the Archdemon swooped downwards, launching fire at the bridge. The four rushed through the gate with only a small number of men, those whom fell behind were either burned or blocked by the wall of fire the archdemon made. They could only watch as the hero and his companions ran on the path towards fort Drakon.

* * *

"The night seemed eternal, fighting continued across Denerim. Defeat never occurred to the warriors for they had already gained a considerable advantage over the darkspawn," Bethany continued to read as her family watched and listened.

Even Gamlen and Carver sat at their chairs, eagerly awaiting the next part of the story.

"News reached the streets, the warden and his companions had reached Fort Drakon. Occasionally soldiers could look up to the spire and see the purple flames of the Archdemon gushing across the sky. The brave grey warden Riordan had given his life to ground the dragon on the fort; all that was left was for the warden and his companions to fight on. Many soldiers had gone into the fort but none came out, save for remarkably a dwarf boy. The warden and his companions however, one could imagine the struggle the warden had to go through. The cry of victory came when a great light shined from the tower, an explosion of energy cleared the clouds and the darkspawn were overcome by something none thought they were capable of feeling, fear. They ran, the rest of the world was nothing to them; they just had to get away from the city. Many soldiers pursued, but most gathered at Drakon. They waited and waited until finally two of the hero's companions emerged. Leliana the bard and Wynn the mage, what they said made the army erupt with cheers."

"The hero was victorious, the archdemon is dead," both Carver and Marian said.

"What ever happened to me reading it?" Bethany asked.

"I didn't realise Carver had read it already, I knew you admired our cousin brother," Marian grinned as Carver turned his head away.

"Loghain died and Daylen went onto serve as chancellor for a time before ruling over Amaranthine, such success within a mere year of his life," Leandra smiled, thinking of how proud Revka and her uncle would be of Daylen.

"But it makes you wonder," Marian mused.

"Wonder what sister?" Carver asked.

"How did cousin defeat the demon and what exactly happened to Loghain?"

The Hawke siblings thought about their cousin and the struggle he had gone through. All three of them wanted to know what had driven him through the hell of war. For Carver and Marian it was particularly difficult, they felt like cowards in comparison to their cousin. They ran from Ostagar, they ran from Loghain's men and the darkspawn but their cousin never ran, he kept on fighting even though he was outnumbered. Marian wondered if she could do what her cousin could do, gather allies and influence to fulfil a goal. The twins also wondered if they could ever match the courage and heroism of their cousin Daylen Amell. A flash suddenly broke the family from their thoughts and water began to leak into the house.

"Blasted rain," Gamlen growled as he grabbed a nearby bucket.

"A storm is coming," Marian muttered.

"You speak as if its to be feared, don't tell me you believe the superstitions sister," Carver chuckled.

"Of course not, I mean Thedas has faced the fifth blight, I doubt the darkspawn will have recovered enough to begin another one. What could come that would be worse than a blight?"

Despite her sister's smile, Bethany felt uneasy. Father always told her that there were worse things than darkspawn and despite what all others said a part of Bethany felt he was right. If there was something worse than a blight then it would surely be the end of the world as people knew it. A storm was indeed brewing.

Next chapter 4: Through the storm

* * *

There will be more flashbacks throughout the story, both to Daylen's past and the past of the Hawkes. Next time we return to Daylen on the sea as his ship is swept into the storm by mysterious attackers. Daylen's fifth companion is also revealed.


End file.
